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"They came at unawares in the middle of the winter, and fought with Dior in the Thousand Caves; and so befell the second slaying of Elf by Elf. There fell Celegorm by Dior's hand, and there fell Curufin, and dark Caranthir...." Silmarillion This is a double drabble (200 words). ~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~ So long have I yearned for them, fought for them. And now one is within my grasp. Its beauty ignites the fire of desire, which surges in my fëa. The ethereal flame seduces me to once again commit the unforgivable assassination of a fellow kinsman. It will be I, Celegorm the Fair who will bring the Silmaril back to us, the rightful owners, the Sons of Fëanor. My name will become legend, a champion of the Noldo. No longer will I carry the dishonor that has stained my name like the blood of my people stains my hands. Dior, son of the treacherous Beren, displays Nauglamir around his neck boldly and he will pay for his audacity. He faces me and with deadly force I drive my blade deep into his chest. As triumph fills my heart, pain screams through my body and I look down in disbelief at the dark stain spreading quickly across my gut. I hear Curufin’s mournful curse and, sinking to the ground, my gaze falls upon my brothers one last time. Tears stain my cheeks. With the last of my energy I reach for my spectral mistress. One last breath left, my hand falls short. ~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~ A/N: |
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