FicWad

There was a fire in Feanáro's eyes that was brighter than any torch flame. He spoke incendiary words, in grief and madness, of vengeance and glory, payment and valiance. A fearful sight he was to behold, illuminated by fire, shining on his hair and in his wild eyes. His fury was contagious, and wrath spread through the assembled crowd, earning Fëanáro cries of assent to punctuate his passionate speech. Others remained silent, staring in a mixture of awe and fear. Steel rang as Fëanáro drew his sword, swearing on Darkness. Then his wrath set not fire in me, but ice.