Fëanáro had a divide between he and his brothers. They were only half kin and Fëanáro reminded them often. His brothers Ñolofinwë and Arafinwë were much beloved among the people of Tirion upon Túna. Fëanáro wondered to himself if he resented them or their mother. A little of both, he was sure.

He was returning from the forge. He had spent the day with Mahtan like he often did to stay away from his father and Indis. Making great things from metal and jewels. Mahtan had shown him how to make crowns, how to make jewelry such as rings and necklaces, he had taught him how to cut and smooth his own stones. Fëanáro was sure that he was the greatest craftsman who had ever lived. Besides Mahtan and Aluë of course.

Today he had worked with crystal. He had made many different sizes plates and strung them together. When they caught the light you could see every color in Valinor. He had entranced himself with the colors of the plates and the sounds that they made when they tapped and clashed. It was a soft "tink".

"Fëanáro?" The Elda's head snapped up to see an elfling standing on the pathway. Ñolofinwë. He was the eldest of Indis' children. He had dark hair and eyes like the ocean.

"What." Fëanáro voice was harsh and cold. The elfling came closer and was soon right in front of Fëanáro. He pointed at the crystal, trying to grab it as well.

"What is-"

"Keep your hands off." The Elda pulled the chiming crystals away and sneered. "This is only for me to touch." Ñolofinwë looked at him with eyes filled with hurt.

"Why can't I touch it?"

"Because I said so!" Fëanáro snapped at the elfling before pushing past him and planning on going back to the main part of Tirion.

"Brother!" Ñolofinwë cried out before running after him. Fëanáro sighed, a growling sound coming from the back of his throat. "Wait!" Fëanáro, being bigger than Ñolofinwë, kept walking but picked up his place a little more. He cradled the crystals in his arms, putting them close to his chest. He watched as they changed color and he allowed himself a small smirk. They didn't make sound but they were beautiful. He had so many ideas and there was no limit to what he could make. "Fëanáro!" He was pulled from his mind to the elfling that had somehow caught up with him.

The Elda growled again before picking his pace up even faster.

"You sound like a dog." Ñolofinwë began running to keep up with his older brother. "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Why?"

"Because I want to."

"I thought you liked the forge better than home." Fëanáro sighed again but he couldn't walk any faster. "You're never home, you're always with Mahtan." Fëanáro rolled his eyes. "Why?"

"Why what."

"Why do you always want to be with Mahtan more than Father?" Fëanáro stopped dead in his tracks and stared at Ñolofinwë with fiery eyes before turning back to his destination and continuing his walking. The two elflings had yet to understand why their brother did not call them kin. They had yet to learn of their brother's source of his hate, the source of his flames of rage.

Ñolofinwë rushed after him unsure if he heard his question. "Brother?"

Fëanáro kept his mouth closed and his eyes ahead. Indis had yelled at him before for his sharp tongue around the two younger boys. He wasn't going to he the subject of her disapproval again.

"Brother?"

Fëanáro bit his lip to keep from answering.

"Fëanáro?"

The Elda looked at the crystals in his arms again. They were calming. Beautiful and quiet. He wished Ñolofinwë would be more like his crystals. Quiet, pretty, he didn't even need to be pretty. Quiet would have been nice though.

"Broth-"

"I heard you!" Fëanáro snapped back at him before looking back to his arms. Ñolofinwë looked at his brother again with hurt in his eyes, but he did not ask again. He did not want to snapped at again by the Elda.

The two walked, and jogged, in silence. Fëanáro with his eyes on his crystals, sometimes they flicked up to see if anyone was coming. Ñolofinwë watched his brother, and occasionally looked up for people. Following Fëanáro's example.

Ñolofinwë began to drop behind the fierce pace that the other had. Partly from becoming tired of jogging and partly from the silence that Fëaráro had to walk in. The elfling fell far behind and Fëanáro didn't even notice until he made it to the entrance.

"I can't believe that-" The Elda turned, expecting to see his brother standing behind him, starting at his feet. There was nothing. Fëanáro shrugged it off before going inside.

It was quiet in the halls of Finwë. Large banners hung from the walls with different symbols. Each one better than the last. There was one with his father's device. Red, blue, and yellow. The colors that all Noldorian devices used. He passed them with little thought. Instead he had begun holding the crystals like he had before Ñolofinwë had shown up. They started making the same chiming sound as before. It made him smile, only slightly.

"There you are. You haven't been home for days." Fëanáro froze, but he had no reason to turn around to see who it was. "You told us you would be home yesterday. Why weren't you Curufinwë?" The disapproving tone in Finwë's voice was one that Fëanáro was all to familiar with.

"I was working with Mahtan." He kept his voice firm and even, to show no weakness to his father. "We were working longer than we thought."

"Odd, that's not what Mahtan told me when we met." Finwë walked around him until he stood in front of his eldest son. "I believe that you're avoiding us."

"No, I just... I'm in the forge a lot more than I use to be." Fëanáro gritted his teeth. Finwë looked to the crystals he still held in his hand. They were bumping together, making the chiming sound that the Elda enjoyed.

"It took Curufinwë two days of non-stop work to make this trinket?" Finwë reached out for the crystals only to have Fëanáro cradle them in his arms again. He gave his father a burning look. "Let me see them Curufinwë." Finwë held out his hand, expecting Fëanáro to put his creation in his hands. Fëanáro gave him another glare. "Ana sa Curufinwë. Sí." Finwë's voice became more powerful and more commanding.

Fëanáro looked down to the shining crystals in his arms. He wondered what his father would do if he refused. "Sí Curufinwë." His father commanded once again. Fëanáro gritted his teeth in anger and defeat. He paused to look at the beauty in the simplicity of the "trinket" as his father called it. Picking it up he handed it to Finwë, but the King saw the look that his eldest shot him when he took it.

The King held it up to the light. Colors of all kinds hit the floor. Finwë raised an eyebrow at the Elda.

"Did you make this for your brothers." Fëanáro looked as if he had been insulted.

"I made it for myself!"

"A little too old for toys like this, aren't you?" Finwë looked the crystals over again. Assessing them. Fëanáro could feel his hackles rising in anger.

"It's not a toy! It's art! It's the art of creation!" Finwë shook his head.

"Qui tye sav san." The moment he made the move to hand out back Fëanáro snatched it from his hands and glared at him again as if he had been insulted in the highest manner possible.

Fëanáro pushed past his father without another word. He went down the hall to his personal study, that lead down to his forge. He had been working on his secret forge for only a few years, but it was paying off. His study was spacious. There was a large desk with quills and parchment for him to write upon. He had a shelf filled with books of all shapes and sizes on all different things. He had a harp that he never played. He hated singing. Then there was his work. What his father called "trinkets" and Indis called "a waste of his time".

They hung from the ceiling, all of them. Some sat on his shelf, some at the foot of his bed, they were every where. Fëanáro looked to think that his mother would had liked his work. She was a crafter in her own way. He wanted someone to appreciate what he made, see the time and effort he put into every little thing.

He shook his head. No one would understand how much of his heart and soul he poured into every little thing he made. From one link in a chain to an entire blade of a sword. Fëanáro walked over to the windowsill. It had been covered in cloth with a pillow at the end leaning on the wall. Fëanáro always say in the sun and read. He sat in moon light and read. It was his favorite place to be.

Míriel, his mother, had made it for him. He had just put it there. Fëanáro slipped down to his knees and laid his head on the blanket. He rested the crystals on it as well. "I wonder if you would have liked my work. Or would be like the others? I suppose it doesn't matter..." He closed his eyes and let himself feel the warmth of the light. It didn't stay like that for long though.

Fëanáro returned to his feet and reached up, hanging the crystals on a little metal peg next too the window. The light steamed though them and the colors danced in the floor. Fëanáro smiled slightly at the colors swirling on his floor.

He grabbed a book from his shelf, one he had been writing. It was a large book but almost every page was empty. He had been writing of everything he made, the process, the idea, what it did. He had filed out only a few pages. Fëanáro grabbed a quill from his desk and an ink pot before sitting on the windowsill again. He watched the crystals spin on their hook before beginning to draw what he had made.

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Hey! This is a Silmarillion fic (If you couldn't tell) that I will be writing at night for the most part. This was an idea I had while listening to "Time Stands Still (At the Iron Hill)" by Blind Guardian. If you are a Silmarillion fan who hasn't heard this song, you should really listen to it! If you already have heard it, listen to it again! It's just that good to me!

You could call this AU due to how I changed the story a little but, and I'm aware of it. Finwë loves his son, we know this already.... Right? And I'm sure I made Fingolfin much younger then he actually was. Still, I don't mind. I hope you don't either!

Ana sa Curufinwë. Sí : Give it Feanor. Now.
Sí Curufinwë : Now Feanor.
Qui tye sav san : If you believe so.
(Where I get my elvish): http://www.elfdict.com/

<3 Ya
~Megan