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

The Ring of Doom

Back at the cottage, Mahtan didn't see as many of the boys as he would have expected. Their father seemed unconcerned. "They wander off. Sometimes we don't see them for days."

The missing ones, Maedhros and Maglor, turned up when Mahtan's wife was setting the table for supper.

"Where were you?" asked Mahtan.

"We went to see the Ring of Doom," said Maedhros.

"It's not a public place. What were you thinking?" said Mahtan.

"That it would be cool to see," said Maglor.

"Sometimes when I look into your eyes, I can see the back of your head," said Fëanor.

"And anyway, you've been there yourself. Didn't you tell us you spoke in front of a whole lot of important people?" asked Maedhros.

"It's called a trial. I was the defendant," said Fëanor.

They sat down to supper, and Mahtan addressed the group around the table. "I have a treat for you tomorrow. Aulë himself will give us a tour of the Forge, and each of you will have a chance to make something."

Dark-haired Curufin looked up with what could only be described as longing. All around the table, dark and red head nodded in agreement and began talking excitedly among themselves.