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2/15/2017 c1 10NelyafinweFeanorion
Not a moment I've seen written often. Well done and Findekano's faith in Russandol breaks my heart here, especially because we know Maedhros side of things as well.
7/17/2013 c1 9Bushwah
Perfection then, in pain, and betrayal.
4/27/2013 c1 44Duilin
I was pilfering through stories to read - and I thought to start with yours because I know you to be an absolutely marvelous writer.

But you've far surpassed that.

This piece is absolutely awing. The flow of words is so beautifully constrained that there is only agony peeking out beyond its restraints that can be palpable to readers that stumble upon a deeper meaning. Absolutely beautiful.

My favorite line - 'A scarlet conflagration flickers on the edge of the infinite dusk, smoke gathering over it as if to uphold the sky.'

Absolutely beautiful.
4/11/2013 c1 mornnenn
Oh, I love it!

From the very first sentence to the very last, this story was beautiful. And I should add that I simply and utterly and completely adored your first sentence. "Helcaraxë, the frost had said to me, laced across the dying grass like ten thousand gossamer ladders, when I awakened." It's lovely, like a poem.

Turgon was done wonderfully. He matched so well how I imagined him. "There are no days here."

Fingon too was perfect. "My heart pounds as massive swans take shape-I beg, let them be prows- and sinks as they shift into mounds of frozen splinters, time and time again." His resolve and despair beat together against each other so well. I adored it.

I think that my favourite part might be the last tensions between them.

' "You jest with yourself, Findekáno; there are no tighter ties than between the eight strands binding that house to itself. Will you deny it?"

I shake my head slowly, reluctantly. The icy wind still flogs my face, and I cast my gaze toward Helcaraxë again. Still, no ships plow through the mist upon its treacherous waters.

"Will you deny it?" Turukáno persists above the screeching of the gale.

Please, Russandol; I beg you. The Grinding Ice must smother my psychic pleas. I lower my head, turn toward Turukáno. "I cannot."'

But I'm not certain, because there were no parts that I didn't love.

"Look east. Look up." There's something dreadfully beautiful in that simplicity.

And the ending. "Mist still shrouds the stars." *has no words*

This was a completely wonderful story. *wipes away tears* Thank-you so much, Crackers!
4/6/2013 c1 3Ailavyn Siniyash
Oh, this is painful, and I pity them so much...
4/6/2013 c1 7Fortune Zyne
This was a great story! Well done!
4/5/2013 c1 112AzureSkye23
Oddly, (or perhaps not) what this fic brought to mind was Fingon's rescue of Maedhros once they do manage to get to Middle-earth. I wonder if part of Fingon's motivations was to prove that he was nothing like the Fëanorians who had doomed their own kin. Poor Fingon, poor Turgon, who is going to loose so much to the Ice... You do a wonderful job here portraying the understated horror and pain of this moment. Good job!

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