Voices of Despair by ford_of_bruinen  

XIII

I tasted their distrust as years grew older, the eldest son of Finwë blinded - your passion burnt of greed and spite. The looks in our direction, little sons - the seven - taught to hate.

In me the fire burnt the deepest, father. I was the one that carried name and face. You named me for your likeness, marked me, cursed me. Long before the swords and fire and betrayal.

I played obedient son, the most beloved, for far to long until there was no else. The fire burnt to ash, the cinders smothered. My life was always yours and never mine.