i! hate! everything about you!
Curufin is not happy. In fact, one might go so far as to say that Curufin is very, very angry. He doesn't show it, of course, other than perhaps a certain preoccupation with his one remaining blade - the unfavored bow is stored in his room, safely (he hopes, ohh if she dares, if she dares set foot in his territory or near him again she will pay for it - and in addition to the other...
All murderous thoughts aside, though, his thoughts are mostly focused on four things.
1. Artanis took his sword. This is really not acceptable. She took. His sword. And he doesn't know what she did to his head, but it was clearly some kind of witchery and he is going to pretend it never happened because she is lying, of course she is lying, she would - perhaps she thinks to defend her brother, if so she is sorely mistaken but it does not matter. She still stole the sword that is his from his father, and that grates like rubbing his skin off. He will kill her for this. Damn them all and their admonishments, he will take her head and feel no remorse. Not that you ever have, a small voice nags, and he brushes it away like a fly. Remnants of Artanis's mind games.
2. Someone gave Caranthir too much freedom, and he's run away with it. Curufin doesn't know who gave him the bit - Turco, he warrants - but it was a grave mistake, and he's going to be trouble. Between his anger and the stubbornness Curufin doesn't know that he can beat - well, if Caranthir sets himself against him, there will be trouble, and he can't afford that, not with Morgoth here, not with all the setbacks he is already having to face. Perhaps next time he sees Caranthir he will attempt to be rational and explain this. Carnistir has a brain. Surely he'll see reason if he comes at it right.
3. Aredhel, and his prodigal brother. This perhaps most of all (other than preoccupations with daydreams of killing Artanis. Finrod, as long as he stays out of the way, shouldn't be a problem anymore.) and it irks him every time it comes up. She has seduced his brother away from him, away from the path he should be following, away from his duty and his loyalties where they should lie. He should not be surprised - always, she has threatened to be a distraction. He should have cut off that affection in its youth when it could still be smothered with little pain. Now it has grown into a tree that cannot be struck down in one blow, and inevitably there will be pain, and he's not sure if he dares go about it and risk a backlash. That kind of reaction, he suspects, no amount of fraternal loyalty will be able to overcome. Perhaps she will die in childbirth, and the babes with her; that would solve his problem and neatly, though it might take a while to win his brother back. He shall certainly have to keep a close eye on her, though.
4. His son. His son, his only son, has strayed so far now, and gone so terribly wrong from what he should be - not like his grandfather at all, too much like his grandmother, too much like his mother. He can school it out of the boy, though, surely - he can mold him again as he did before. It is possible. Nothing is impossible to him, and certainly not with regards to his own son. He made him, and will unmake and remake him in the same way, as much as is needed, until he fits the mold that broke too soon to set. This time, he will do it right. This time, he will make sure that no defiance remains of this rebellious and unpleasant spirit.
So much to do, so much to think about. And the presence of Morgoth lurks like a dark cloud. He sits on the porch, sharpening the edge of his knife in slow, even strokes and staring into the distance, pondering all these things.
All murderous thoughts aside, though, his thoughts are mostly focused on four things.
1. Artanis took his sword. This is really not acceptable. She took. His sword. And he doesn't know what she did to his head, but it was clearly some kind of witchery and he is going to pretend it never happened because she is lying, of course she is lying, she would - perhaps she thinks to defend her brother, if so she is sorely mistaken but it does not matter. She still stole the sword that is his from his father, and that grates like rubbing his skin off. He will kill her for this. Damn them all and their admonishments, he will take her head and feel no remorse. Not that you ever have, a small voice nags, and he brushes it away like a fly. Remnants of Artanis's mind games.
2. Someone gave Caranthir too much freedom, and he's run away with it. Curufin doesn't know who gave him the bit - Turco, he warrants - but it was a grave mistake, and he's going to be trouble. Between his anger and the stubbornness Curufin doesn't know that he can beat - well, if Caranthir sets himself against him, there will be trouble, and he can't afford that, not with Morgoth here, not with all the setbacks he is already having to face. Perhaps next time he sees Caranthir he will attempt to be rational and explain this. Carnistir has a brain. Surely he'll see reason if he comes at it right.
3. Aredhel, and his prodigal brother. This perhaps most of all (other than preoccupations with daydreams of killing Artanis. Finrod, as long as he stays out of the way, shouldn't be a problem anymore.) and it irks him every time it comes up. She has seduced his brother away from him, away from the path he should be following, away from his duty and his loyalties where they should lie. He should not be surprised - always, she has threatened to be a distraction. He should have cut off that affection in its youth when it could still be smothered with little pain. Now it has grown into a tree that cannot be struck down in one blow, and inevitably there will be pain, and he's not sure if he dares go about it and risk a backlash. That kind of reaction, he suspects, no amount of fraternal loyalty will be able to overcome. Perhaps she will die in childbirth, and the babes with her; that would solve his problem and neatly, though it might take a while to win his brother back. He shall certainly have to keep a close eye on her, though.
4. His son. His son, his only son, has strayed so far now, and gone so terribly wrong from what he should be - not like his grandfather at all, too much like his grandmother, too much like his mother. He can school it out of the boy, though, surely - he can mold him again as he did before. It is possible. Nothing is impossible to him, and certainly not with regards to his own son. He made him, and will unmake and remake him in the same way, as much as is needed, until he fits the mold that broke too soon to set. This time, he will do it right. This time, he will make sure that no defiance remains of this rebellious and unpleasant spirit.
So much to do, so much to think about. And the presence of Morgoth lurks like a dark cloud. He sits on the porch, sharpening the edge of his knife in slow, even strokes and staring into the distance, pondering all these things.