Fëanor, The World's Worst Son-In-Law by Uvatha the Horseman

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The next day, Mahtan noticed the red-headed twins, Amrod and Amras, sitting in a comfortable bay window lined with pillows looking out onto the garden. And beyond that, the house next door. They were crouched over something, laughing hysterically. Mahtan paused to listen.

"Look, he tried to jump on the table but missed. Now he's washing himself," said Amrod.

"It's that, 'I meant to do that,' mannerism," said Amras.

"Oh look, he's about to try again. Come see this, Celegorm," said Amrod.

"I'm busy. Can I ignore you some other time?" said the blond.

Their mother came in from the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"We're using the seeing stone to watch the neighbor's cats," said Amrod.

"Not me. I'm a dog person," said Celegorm.

"You're looking into the neighbors' house?" Nerdanel looked appalled.

"Of course we're looking into the neighbors' house. This thing doesn't have much range," said Amrod.

"And it's no worse than looking through windows," said Amras.

"Which we were doing earlier," said Amrod.

Fëanor stormed into the room, waving the empty pouch. "Where is …" He crossed the room in a few long strides. "Give me that!"

The twins bolted from the room faster than Fëanor could shove it back into its pouch.

"Are you sure it can only see as far as the neighbors?" Mahtan hoped they weren't spying on the Mansions of Aulë. He had a good relationship with the Holy Ones. He wanted to keep it that way.