A great Happy (late) Belated Birthday to my dear friend Crackers! Since I was an absolute idiot for forgetting, this is your present! ;)
I hope I've done justice to one of your favorite characters!
"Strike, Curufin!" exclaimed Celegorm. "Do not dally! Kill everyone who tries to escape!"
He sifted through the crowds of fleeing peoples, trying to get to the one who mattered the most - the one who needed to be killed first to end all of this madness. But they were already mad, weren't they? Curufin growled as he veered away from the path of his older brother, pushing past women and children fleeing for their lives. Why was it that every face he saw was the face of his child? Damn it, he was going insane.
Slowly, each face that passed him melted into the face of his son Celebrimbor.
Curufin backed away, eyes widening and narrowing as an Elf's face continued to oscillate between Celebrimbor's face and his own. No, this was not Celebrimbor. He drove his sword through the heart of the Elf, ignoring the painful thump that the body created. He strode away, trying to maintain apathy.
"Curufin," said Maglor, placing his hand on his shoulder as he appeared next to him. "You must calm down."
"Get away from me."
Maglor frowned. "Curufin. Please. You don't have to kill them."
"I do," Curufin replied, gritting his teeth and wrenching himself away from his brother's grasp. "Get. away. from. me."
"Light the halls with fire!" shouted Celegorm from up ahead, facing down Dior Eluchil.
Curufin took a torch as Maglor turned away from him to put another Elf out of his misery. As he trailed back towards the entrance to the caves, he noted that there was stifled sobbing from his left, though he tried to avert his gaze from the source. His eyes were starting to fail him as the smoke blurred his sight. At last, he dropped the torch onto the doors as people started fleeing, disregarding the flames lapping at their clothing and skin. Then, he turned back around, and there the child sat, sobbing as he blearily looked up at Curufin.
Wordlessly, Curufin knelt down and looked him in the eye with his grey, intense gaze. "Child," he said softly, his voice deadly quiet.
The child simply shook.
"I will not kill you."
He looked up, eyes unblinking as he stared into Curufin's face.
Curufin frowned as he spotted the resemblances within the child's face and Celebrimbor's. This was not a hallucination, was it? He dropped his sword, and it fell to the stone floor with a clang. He placed his hand against the child's cheek. "You look like him."
Then, he smiled, and the child stared at him in horror.
"Flee, like the child you are. Flee," he said, gripping the blade that now protruded through his stomach.
His hands started to bleed, and he stood up and turned around, finding that the sword's hilt was released, and the Elf who wielded it was in shock. A terrible smile curved his mouth as any color slipped from the face of his attacker. Then, soon, the face, as well as the head, dropped to the floor, separated from the body as Curufin removed the sword from his body deftly.
"Curufin." Curufin slowly turned around, sinking to his knees. Maedhros stood there, holding the child in his arms as he looked down upon his brother. His gaze was questioning as his eyes swept across Curufin's wound. "You will not live, will you?"
"That much is obvious," replied Curufin calmly, laughing and ignoring the blood that spilled from his lips.
Maedhros was silent.
"Will you...promise me something?"
"If it is in my power to do so."
Curufin inhaled deeply, leaning against the stone cave and savoring the coolness it brought to his skin. He thought for a while. Then he spoke. "...Tell...my son."
"Tell your son what?"
Maedhros knelt down. "Curufin?"