He wants to scramble forward, bury himself in those arms. He has missed Curufin for a very long time and now, even if this is a trick, he wants to be close to him. One last time. But some stubborn ember of Fëanorian spirit remains and he holds himself back, every muscle in his body rigid.

"Are you? My Atar perished during the Second Kinslaying. It is the Second Age!" he stops breathing under the touch, confused. He is burning to the touch, but he blinks, fighting to see the truth. All he can see is...

Curufin. His voice breaks as he asks: "Am I dead too?"