there are tall elves and small elves, nice elves and... (introduction)

[mostcraftiest]

Damn fools. Fools, all of them! If they think they will last an hour under that fool Orodreth - well. A slight change in plans only. Though the desertion of his own son - that stung, a little. He should have been firmer with the boy. Spent more time with him here, perhaps, rather than leaving him to tinker in his smithy at whatever little projects

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[hewer_of_caves]

Finrod's stepped out for a bit of air, figuring at the very least he can have a pleasant walk. And then he hears that voice and his head snaps around, eyes narrowing. He doesn't even stop to wonder if he really heard what he thought he heard, that was the younger Curufinwe. Coming in his direction. He turns toward the voice and waits, knowing the confrontation will come sooner or later and that there's no real point in trying to avoid it. At this moment, he looks every inch the great King he once was.

[mostcraftiest]

And indeed, this is a cousin he recognizes, looking even more annoyed than usual - definitely more annoyed than usual - and stalking like a thundercloud away from the woods, hoping to find some answers somewhere.

But he's not unobservant. And that one, he can certainly recognize. He really, really tries not to let the surprise show.

"Isn't that interesting." Drawled, more or less, as he approaches, not showing any sign of being discomfited by this at all. Almost sauntering, really.

[hewer_of_caves]

"Curufinwe." Formally, eyeing him with concealed distaste. "I'd wondered if you would follow you brothers." Implicit in that is the wish that he hadn't.

[mostcraftiest]

His smile is as thin and slightly-nasty as ever. "Findarato," with just a slight inclination of his head. "Apparently, by most accounts. It is almost refreshing to encounter someone that isn't in two places at once." Every inch careless disdain and scorn, not even particular dislike. He's dead, after all. And Curufin's not. Ahahahaha.

[hewer_of_caves]

"Curufinwe. So you have finally come to spread your poison here as well." No, Finrod is not happy to see him. Just being around his cousin makes Finrod very dignifiedly pissed off.

[mostcraftiest]

His eyes don't quite flash. Finrod bothers him. It's probably the dignified. As far as Curufin is concerned the world is his oyster and that includes cousins. The blond set is infuriatingly aloof sometimes. It seems to him. "Such a way to put it, cousin. Your hostility is saddening." His eyes glint, a little.

[hewer_of_caves]

Pot and Kettle, Curu. Though at least Finrod's hostility is the very quiet kind. "It is only the truth."

[mostcraftiest]

Well, on a good day, in his defense, he really doesn't care about Finrod that much. Out and out hostility requires people to matter and really until people get in his way they don't. Or unless they're siblings, or a son. There are few exceptions and sometimes even those are rare.

Someone missed the 'emotion' train somewhere. Unfortunately not the 'crazy' train as well, though.

"Indeed? Your truth, perhaps - hardly universal, I should say."

[hewer_of_caves]

"Because you have no loyalty to any but yourself." Finrod doesn't hate many people. For Curufin he'll make an exception.

[mostcraftiest]

And daddy! Don't forget daddy. Though he's dead. His smile is thin, though his eyes get a little steelier, annoyed. "I have no loyalty to you, too, nor reason to owe it. That doesn't mean to no one." We don't blame you, Finrod - honestly, we don't know a lot of people who don't make an exception.

[hewer_of_caves]

"To whom, then? Besides your father?" As he sees and interprets it, he doesn't think there's much toward anyone else including his brothers and son.

[mostcraftiest]

"Ah, and my father doesn't count?" His voice has some barbs. And Finrod is right. But. Curufin doesn't see it that way. He cares about them they are just wrong so often. And less important than Oaths. "My siblings, then. The family that has stood by me." Not you.