and then there were some.

[mostcraftiest]

"Ata," he remembers saying, like a plea, and seeing his father's face before his eyes, looking down with soul-crushing disappointment, and he wants to reach out to him, but his arms no longer obey him, and he can already feel the dead, encroaching cold

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[ringsmith]

Celebrimbor is on his way to his forge (surprise surprise), when he sees the bloodied figure in the snow. The man on the ground is familiar but he isn't sure until he kneels in the red snow beside him. Slowly and tentatively he reaches to touch Curufin's shoulder, trying to see if he's breathing, barely breathing himself. "...Father?"

[mostcraftiest]

Why would he be going there? Celebrimbor never goes there. Ever.

Anyway. His expression is odd, somewhere between unhappy and almost restful, certainly more than it has been for a long time, and for a moment he doesn't move at all. There's not even a twitch of warning before his hand snaps up from his chest to his son's wrist, and his eyes open, almost wild for a moment.

His brow furrows, not letting go. "--what are you doing here?"

[ringsmith]

He gasps in surprise and tries to pull back, but isn't nearly fast enough. He stares wide-eyed as his father for a minute before he gathers his thoughts. "...I saw you on the ground when I left the mansion."

[mostcraftiest]

Blink. More of a frown. "...what Mansion?" It'll come back in a minute, but at the moment that's not what he remembers after all. And giving Cele a frowny look like he should be able to explain this, but it's not precisely angry at least.

[ringsmith]

...Oh great. Cele looks at his father for a moment before carefully taking his arm. "Come on, you should get out of the snow. Can you stand?"

[mostcraftiest]

Slight flash of irritation, and he hauls himself at least halfway up, and if his expression twitches a little, it's not for any reason. Curufins do not feel mundane things like pain. Or, uh, anything. "Of course I can stand. And you haven't answered the question. What are you doing..." But he kind of trails off, gears already starting to whir back into motion.

[ringsmith]

Cele will help him the rest of the way up if Curufin will let him. "I am getting you inside before you get hypothermia on top of being recently dead," he says coldly. "And then I am leaving." But his hands are tight on Curu's arm and a part of him that he's trying not to acknowledge is relieved that his father is alive.

[mostcraftiest]

Curufin lets him, mostly because he still feels strangely dazed and sore, and while he hates feeling like he needs to rely on anyone, much less his son, well, better that than falling over and looking a fool. He gives Cele a bit of a sharp look at that, though. "I hardly think I need worry about that, boy. Though your concern is touching."

Just a little bit of a bitter reminder there, but he doesn't quite try to pull away. He has a vague memory of something tugging at him, but it doesn't mesh right with everything else...

[ringsmith]

Cele scowls and pulls his father roughly toward the door. "What would you know about concern?" At the moment he's meaning to shove his father through the door and head to the forge as quickly as his feet will carry him.

[mostcraftiest]

Curufin digs in his heels at that, nostrils flaring, and attempts to yank away. "Probably as little as you do. If you think-" He's off balance, though, still, confused, and almost a little distressed, though he wouldn't say that. Because things are just not fitting together right, and why are they not, and and and.

[ringsmith]

He pauses and looks back at his father, not pulling for a moment but keeping a tight hand on Curufin's arm. "If I think what?" He's almost glaring, irrationally angry with his father for putting him through all of this.

[mostcraftiest]

Curufin glares back, eyes narrowing slightly, mouth thinning. He tries again to pull away, a little harder. "--go, then. I am certain you have better things to waste your time on if it is such a trouble to offer an explanation, or a modicum of respect."

[ringsmith]

"You were dead. And now I walk out of the mansion and find you lying in the snow. What explanation could I even give for that?" And whatever the problems between them he's not going to leave his father outside in the cold when he's clearly disoriented and so recently dead.

[mostcraftiest]

He doesn't like hearing that, likes even less thinking about it. And everything undone - or was it? Still grasping at straws, and he chases one in particular as he answers. "You might tell me what mansion, or what you are doing here, or...I'm sure you can find something to account for yourself." Sharply, but mostly because he really, really doesn't like being disoriented, and therefore vulnerable. That is not a happy state for a Curufin to be in. Ever.

Especially when he has two versions of dying and two different lives running through his head and kind of dogpiling on each other. It's confusing.

[ringsmith]

"...What mansion?" That stops Celebrimbor cold, and he stares at Curufin in shock. He could see that his father was disoriented, but this... "What do you mean, what mansion? You've been here for..." He trails off, still staring. After a moment he takes a breath. "Inside. Lets have this conversation inside." Where there is beer. Or something stronger. He's going to need it after dealing with a father who is apparently amnesiac. His hand on Curufin's arm is less harsh though as he tries again to lead his father inside.

[mostcraftiest]

"I've been here for what?" Curufin does not really like that expression, and he nearly balks again, but he can see his own breath and it really is not a pleasant temperature outside, even with some resistance to it. "I suppose I won't ask what you mean by that, then, for the moment." Audibly tightly, mmhm. Something en't right here. A lot of somethings.