Fëanor stared up at the stars, watching some of them blaze through the sky. His long, ebony hair shifted in the wind and his stormy gray eyes frantically glanced around, searching for something to lock onto. He could feel the blood pumping through his veins and out his many wounds and his entire body felt as if it was on fire. He knew he didn't have long left to live as the Balrog descended on him and he closed his eyes, praying for the final blow to come swiftly. Suddenly, there was a cry as his sons arrived, but he knew that it was too late. His knees felt weak and shuddered, not wanting to hold his weight any longer. Fëanor agreed with his legs and willingly collapsed. There were arms suddenly; wrapping around him, lifting him and carrying him to safety.
An immeasurable amount of time passed and Fëanor could feel the last trails of his life ebbing away and he forced his eyes open. The simple task was much more difficult then it should've been and he suddenly came to the horrifying realization that he was dying.
His eyes shot open faster then they should have and he groaned as the light assaulted his vision. The person carrying him - who was only a faint outline - looked down and Fëanor saw blood flash before his eyes. He could feel the son lowering him to the ground, but he couldn't see him. Seven faces entered his vision, but he couldn't tell one apart from the other and he felt incredible guilt bubbling up. He opened his mouth to apologize, but words that weren't his own slipped from his burned lips and try as he might to take them back, his sons knew not that the words had been Morgoth's, not his own and they swore the cursed oath once more.
Fëanor struggled to hold on to life for a bit longer; to free his sons from the oath that had already damned him; but the fire that had so helped him in all his days finally turned against him and the flames rose from deep within his spirit and consumed his body, leaving him no time to even say farewell.
For a minute, Fëanor's spirit hovered over his sons, trying to send them a message, but when they gave no reply - for they couldn't hear him - he was forced to leave; a growing sense of horror and guilt building up in his chest as he felt the blackness overcome him.