Silmarillion Request Book [REQUESTS CLOSED]

Regret: Caranthir and twin sister OC

Do y'all like my new line break?

As Laurelin's flaxen glow stole over the dark sky, Nerdanel held two small bundles of cloth, beaming at them. Fëanáro stood by the bed, forehead slightly creased in worry. 

Nerdanel gestured softly to him to approach. 

In the bundles sat twin elflings. One was like Laurelin itself, golden-haired and glowing. The other had dark hair and a cloudy expression, even minutes after being born. They were twins but opposites in every other sense. 

Y/N, the golden-haired one was called. Her smile was as bright as a falling star, her nature even more vivid. 

And her twin was named Carnistir, Dark Finwë. He was everything that she was not; he was withdrawn, his moods shifting quicker than storm clouds over Taniquetil. 

-✵-

Y/N tugged on Carnistir's sleeve, pulling him along. "Come on! Let us play!" 

Carnistir let himself be dragged enthusiastically towards a spread-out group of elflings, running among the trees of Yavanna's orchard. 

"Meet my twin!" declared Y/N, presenting him to a semi-circle of curious faces. Carnistir could feel eyes burning into his skin, searing white-hot like a physical presence. 

"He looks nothing like you!" one of them shouted. 

Carnistir's face flushed angrily, as red as his father's insignia. 

"But he is my twin all the same," Y/N replied evenly, in that infuriatingly calm way of hers. "Let's play a game!" 

And as fast as that, the elflings forgot about Carnistir. They followed Y/N like she was a ray of Laurelin's light, guiding them. 

One brown-haired elfling approached Carnistir, footsteps guided by curiosity. "Want to play catch?" he urged. Without waiting for an answer, he plucked an apple from a low-hanging branch and tossed it at Carnistir. The golden-red fruit spun through the air, smooth surface catching the light. 

He caught it in his small hands, marveling at its color. It was like the purest of gold, the brightest of rubies. 

The other elf's voice cut through his thoughts. "Come on! Throw it back!" 

Carnistir glanced at the fruit sitting in his palm. He had never played catch before, but how hard could it be?

He drew his arm back and threw the apple, watching it sail in an upwards arc– 

Right into his playmate's face. 

Playing catch was harder than it seemed, apparently. 

The elfling staggered back, holding his face, the game temporarily forgotten. "Ow!"

Carnistir stared at him, frozen. His mouth refused to open. He wanted to apologize, wanted to say sorry, wanted to–

The elf burst into tears. 

Carnistir, panicked and caught in an awkward situation, promptly ran away. 

-✵-

Carnistir learned from that day on. He learned that no matter his good intentions, no matter his heart, no matter what he did or tried to do, he would always end up hurting people. Claws and fangs weren't meant to help. They were meant to hurt. 

So he kept to himself while the others played, watching jealously. Y/N would always invite him, call him over to participate in this or that, but he refused the hand she stretched out. He returned every kind smile with a frown, every compliment with a rebuff.