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Oct. 19th, 2005 08:26 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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silwritersguildI hereby submit this vignette in honour of [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]'s birthday which is today.
Title: Curufin's Lament
Author:digdigil
Rating: 14A
Warnings: Curse words and nudity but not graphic.
Summary: Curufin holds Eöl captive on the banks of Aros.
Unlucky Dark Elf Eöl stared mournfully at his captor. The smell of stale sweat emanated from him as Curufin approached and wrinkled his fine nose in disgust.
“Gods, I wish that I could kill you”, swore Curufin softly, holding his sharp knife Angrist beneath Eöl’s chin. With a quick thrust he jerked the chin upwards, causing the back of Eöl’s neck to click painfully as he was forced to look at the sky. It was clear and blue but terrible to him.
“No, my Lord, stay your hand as you promised”, cried Curufin’s bodyguard, placing a firm grip on his master’s tautly muscled shoulder. Curufin turned to him and his dark eyes flashed.
“Leave me. I want to talk to this bastard alone”, he said, and the servant, after exchanging a glance with his master that satisfied him that he spoke the truth, withdrew into a nearby tent.
Eöl had been captured at the Fords of Aros as he chased his wife and son in their flight from him and was bound and taken to Lord Curufin of Himlad, whom he knew hated him since he had dared to take Aredhel as his wife. There, in the bright light of the summer day the river water sparkled and sang merrily as it splashed over the smooth rocks. Curufin waded in to wash himself, giving himself time to cool down before speaking with Eöl. He cupped his hands and let them fill and dashed his face and eyes with the clear, cold water.
Eöl regarded his captor carefully. Curufin was tanned and fit. He was as opposite to Eöl as any man could be. The Dark Elf was white of skin and thin as a bone and hated the sunlight. Curufin most closely of all Fëanor’s sons resembled his father; gleaming of skin and handsome of face, dark of hair and eyes, and of the same fierce, proud spirit. After bathing and wading in the water for a while, Curufin came plunging out like a wild animal. Unashamed, as if taunting Eöl with his good looks and fine form, he stripped off his wet clothing and dried himself with a towel. Shaking his head so that his wet black hair fell full and loose around his shoulders, he turned his baleful gaze upon his captive.
“What should I do with you?” he asked. Eöl did not know if he were meant to answer. He drew his breath in sharply and shifted his position uneasily. His hands were bound and as if that weren’t uncomfortable enough, Curufin had now the audacity to stride forward and stand before him, naked and intimidating. “That she would choose such as you is unthinkable”, he growled. The contrast between himself and this strong, virile son of Fëanor was not lost on Eöl. He realized the danger he was in and vowed to say nothing that would worsen the situation. Curufin strode to where his dry clothing had been left by his manservant, and quickly dressed.
“I want you gone and out of my lands”, he said, “but I wish to curse you first. I may not kill you, but you are to know that from this day forth your wife is gone from you. Go home or you will regret that you have not obeyed my command. That you dared to take a lady of the Noldor to wife and that lady in particular is an unforgivable sin. You know not what you did at the time, but you took one that was dear to me, such that you have made me your worst enemy”. Curufin’s voice was full of emotion. “If you enter these lands again, I will kill you”. Eöl bit his lip as he could not allow himself to answer in fear for his life. He looked down at the ground, at the grass green and fragrant, full of the hope and promise of summer, but not for Eöl nor for Curufin either. The son of Fëanor approached him and grabbed his hands, twisting them cruelly, and he cut the bonds, setting Eöl’s hands free. He set Angrist again at Eöl’s throat and said through clenched teeth, as the bodyguard quickly led Eöl’s horse toward them, “Part of me hopes that you will make a move now to strike me, and that will give me reason to kill you right here”, he hissed. But without further word, for Eöl feared to mention his wife again, and now understanding that Curufin had borne great love for her and held great bitterness at having thus been thwarted, rode quickly away before the fearsome Noldo could change his mind about letting him go.
When Eöl was out of sight, Curufin uttered a howl of rage and threw his knife with one mighty thrust of his arm into a tree where it stuck, its blade gleaming in the sunshine. Then, as his manservant whose eyes were full of tears for his master looked on in sympathy for he knew the full extent of the agony of Curufin’s loss, he sunk to his knees, put his face in his hands and wept. “Oh, Aredhel, that you should forsake me for one such as him is cruel punishment for whatever made you leave me”, he sobbed in anguish. “I know not what I did to you that this should be how my love for you must end”.
He stayed there long and sobbed until he had no tears left. Then, when his sorrow was spent, he stood and walked slowly back to camp.
Title: Curufin's Lament
Author:
digdigilRating: 14A
Warnings: Curse words and nudity but not graphic.
Summary: Curufin holds Eöl captive on the banks of Aros.
Unlucky Dark Elf Eöl stared mournfully at his captor. The smell of stale sweat emanated from him as Curufin approached and wrinkled his fine nose in disgust.
“Gods, I wish that I could kill you”, swore Curufin softly, holding his sharp knife Angrist beneath Eöl’s chin. With a quick thrust he jerked the chin upwards, causing the back of Eöl’s neck to click painfully as he was forced to look at the sky. It was clear and blue but terrible to him.
“No, my Lord, stay your hand as you promised”, cried Curufin’s bodyguard, placing a firm grip on his master’s tautly muscled shoulder. Curufin turned to him and his dark eyes flashed.
“Leave me. I want to talk to this bastard alone”, he said, and the servant, after exchanging a glance with his master that satisfied him that he spoke the truth, withdrew into a nearby tent.
Eöl had been captured at the Fords of Aros as he chased his wife and son in their flight from him and was bound and taken to Lord Curufin of Himlad, whom he knew hated him since he had dared to take Aredhel as his wife. There, in the bright light of the summer day the river water sparkled and sang merrily as it splashed over the smooth rocks. Curufin waded in to wash himself, giving himself time to cool down before speaking with Eöl. He cupped his hands and let them fill and dashed his face and eyes with the clear, cold water.
Eöl regarded his captor carefully. Curufin was tanned and fit. He was as opposite to Eöl as any man could be. The Dark Elf was white of skin and thin as a bone and hated the sunlight. Curufin most closely of all Fëanor’s sons resembled his father; gleaming of skin and handsome of face, dark of hair and eyes, and of the same fierce, proud spirit. After bathing and wading in the water for a while, Curufin came plunging out like a wild animal. Unashamed, as if taunting Eöl with his good looks and fine form, he stripped off his wet clothing and dried himself with a towel. Shaking his head so that his wet black hair fell full and loose around his shoulders, he turned his baleful gaze upon his captive.
“What should I do with you?” he asked. Eöl did not know if he were meant to answer. He drew his breath in sharply and shifted his position uneasily. His hands were bound and as if that weren’t uncomfortable enough, Curufin had now the audacity to stride forward and stand before him, naked and intimidating. “That she would choose such as you is unthinkable”, he growled. The contrast between himself and this strong, virile son of Fëanor was not lost on Eöl. He realized the danger he was in and vowed to say nothing that would worsen the situation. Curufin strode to where his dry clothing had been left by his manservant, and quickly dressed.
“I want you gone and out of my lands”, he said, “but I wish to curse you first. I may not kill you, but you are to know that from this day forth your wife is gone from you. Go home or you will regret that you have not obeyed my command. That you dared to take a lady of the Noldor to wife and that lady in particular is an unforgivable sin. You know not what you did at the time, but you took one that was dear to me, such that you have made me your worst enemy”. Curufin’s voice was full of emotion. “If you enter these lands again, I will kill you”. Eöl bit his lip as he could not allow himself to answer in fear for his life. He looked down at the ground, at the grass green and fragrant, full of the hope and promise of summer, but not for Eöl nor for Curufin either. The son of Fëanor approached him and grabbed his hands, twisting them cruelly, and he cut the bonds, setting Eöl’s hands free. He set Angrist again at Eöl’s throat and said through clenched teeth, as the bodyguard quickly led Eöl’s horse toward them, “Part of me hopes that you will make a move now to strike me, and that will give me reason to kill you right here”, he hissed. But without further word, for Eöl feared to mention his wife again, and now understanding that Curufin had borne great love for her and held great bitterness at having thus been thwarted, rode quickly away before the fearsome Noldo could change his mind about letting him go.
When Eöl was out of sight, Curufin uttered a howl of rage and threw his knife with one mighty thrust of his arm into a tree where it stuck, its blade gleaming in the sunshine. Then, as his manservant whose eyes were full of tears for his master looked on in sympathy for he knew the full extent of the agony of Curufin’s loss, he sunk to his knees, put his face in his hands and wept. “Oh, Aredhel, that you should forsake me for one such as him is cruel punishment for whatever made you leave me”, he sobbed in anguish. “I know not what I did to you that this should be how my love for you must end”.
He stayed there long and sobbed until he had no tears left. Then, when his sorrow was spent, he stood and walked slowly back to camp.
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no subject
Date: 2005-10-21 12:54 pm (UTC)Sorry, sorry, nitpicking... *shuffles off*
I do like the idea, though, that more happened between Curufin and Eol than what the Sil told. Because sometimes I think the Sil left out a lot. :)
Curufin
Date: 2005-10-21 03:02 pm (UTC)Re: Curufin
Date: 2005-10-22 05:31 pm (UTC)The infamous "marriage quote" comes--oddly enough--in a footnote of the essay "Of Dwarves and Men" in HoMe XII: The Peoples of Middle-earth. (This is at the tip-top of page 318 on my Houghton Mifflin hardcover.)
(Maelor is an early form of the name "Maglor." [HoMe X, page 182, footnote 41])
Of course, this is a footnote of an essay having to nothing with the Feanorians...or even Elves. It was a note written in the margin of one of Tolkien's versions of Return of the King, beside the name "Feanor," so its worth as canon should be taken in this context, I think.
(Sorry for the double post, btw. I did the blockquote tag wrongly.... :-/ )
no subject
Date: 2005-10-22 05:34 pm (UTC)I also find myself fascinated by the Feanorian wives, and the unique thing about Curufin's is that--aside from the quote I gave you above--I do not know of any other mention she receives in the books, giving writers a lot of liberty with her character. Kind of a canon OC ;)
*lifts feet to avoid plotbunnies...the buggers can really jump! :P *