Fëanáro Curufinwë was the Crown Prince of our people, a genius unmatched then, or now. He was a fire that drew all to him, but he wasn't always - or even often! - particularly nice. [ His son says in memory ]

He was easy to love, but hard to like. He was charismatic and passionate and driven - where he loved, he loved with all of himself, but his hate was equally all consuming, and it killed him, in the end.

[ It killed us all, he doesn't say ]

We were his sons, the jewels in his crown, but when his father died, we became his weapons to throw against his enemy.

[ He squeezes her hand ]

You do.