Exams are always a good excuse for writing crazy fics, so here is one tiny piece with Feanor being reborn as a kid. Just a fluffy one-shot.

Little piece for Kalendeer, as it is probably the only Feanor I can stand writing, where he would look nice. Well. Feanorish nice.

Reversed roles

The first time the envoy of the Valar came, Nolofinwe was mortified. Like it usually was with them, there wasn't really a place for arguing. Namo, Nolofinwe had to admit, seemed kind of desperate. He said he could find no one else for the task and he would not charge any of Fëanaro's sons with it. All in all, it was a good thing to make a Vala owe you, so Nolofinwe finally agreed.

Which, in result, left him in charge of his brother. His elder brother, currently a pouting child with a charming smile, when he bothered to reward him with one. And, unfortunately, his far less charming personality and memories. Nolofinwe immediately understood why he was chosen. Nerdanel already had her seven sons in various stages of emotional maturity to deal with and it would be unfair to charge her and adolescent Maitimo with the care of Fëanaro.

When Namo's servant brought his brother, Fëanaro was visibly displeased. He clearly found it humiliating that the Maia was carrying him, but as they were both told, the distance was too great for his short legs to manage. The Maia warned the second son of Finwe that he may face emotional instability and mood changes, then left. As if Nolofinwe had not known his brother.

'You will not treat me like a child' was the first thing he heard when they were left alone. He found it hard to follow when he was told so by someone who barely reached his thigh. His brother was no longer so imposing, no matter how hard he tried. At first Nolofinwe found it somewhat amusing.

They walked together across the inner yard to the main building. It was a smaller house Nolofinwe chose from time to time, when he wished to spend some time away from his brother's court. Right now he was almost sure it was one reason more why he was chosen to be put in charge of Fëanaro. They were in quite a desolate place. Findekano and Findarato were going to drop by in the next few days, but Nolofinwe wouldn't be really surprised if they were told by someone not to come.

"Where is your forge?" asked Fëanaro, looking around with interest.

"Have you ever known me for having one?" replied Nolofinwe with a question. "Besides, I will not let you go to any forge right now."

"You will not tell me what to do!"

"What would you do in a forge anyway?" Nolofinwe deliberately knelt to be at the child's level. "Sit on a stool and swing your legs? You are too small to reach most of the things and I doubt you have enough strength to lift, let's say, a hammer."

"I suppose I don't," agreed Fëanaro grumpily. "So, I am to stay with you. I hope you have some books at least."

"I think you'll find something interesting. I can show you the library, if you wish." Perhaps it was for the best to let Fëanaro spend some time alone before trying to talk with him. It must have been so confusing to come back to life as a child. He himself had not had such experience, being brought to Anaire as a grown elf.

"That would be nice," replied the boy politely. Definitely confusing, decided Nolofinwe.

"Then come with me, Pityanaro," he said and chuckled as his tiny elder brother glared daggers at him.

xxx

Fëanaro seemed satisfied when he was given several lore books to study and a sketchbook. He seemed to be buzzing with various ideas and even though he was forbidden to use any kind of workshop, it didn't mean he couldn't make some plans. Nolofinwe was pleased to find his brother willing to explain what he was sketching, even if he was terribly frustrated with the clumsiness of his little fingers. Still, it was refreshing and oddly pleasant to see him working, even if he looked ridiculous sitting by Nolofinwe's desk, way too big for him.

The second son of Finwe decided to return to his studio and leave Fëanaro to his projects, as he was obviously thrilled to be able to create again, even with his limited possibilities. He left the doors open, so he could hear his brother, should he need anything, but he doubted Fëanaro would require anything anytime soon.

xxx

There was a loud thunk!, a startled cry and then something hit the floor. Judging by the muffled whimper, a very stubborn, childish and Feanorish something. Nolofinwe shook his head and went out to check on the damage.

There was a broken shelf and a big, heavy book laying on the floor. Several smaller books were tossed around and in the middle of this chaos sat Fëanaro, doing his best trying not to look distraught. The boy sniffled once, twice, his eyes welled with tears. He wiped them away angrily and stood up, when a muffled sob escaped his lips.

"What's wrong, Fëanaro? Are you alright?"

"N-nothing," sniffled his elder brother and Nolofinwe immediately realised his mistake. Never, ever act around a hurt child as if something serious happened, or else they would flood in tears before you know it. It seemed that he had just triggered the childish part of his brother.

"You know, it is quite alright to cry if it hurts," remarked Nolofinwe more casually, following his brother as he stumbled on the corridor, books and all the mess forgotten.

"It d-doesn't!"

"You have splinters in your calf. AND you are dripping blood on the floor." Nolofinwe easily picked his brother up and placed on his hip. Despite his claims, Fëanaro subconsciously sought comfort and didn't really oppose when Nolofinwe hugged him more closely and carried him to the bathroom.

"Now I am dripping blood on you," muttered the boy matter-of-factly.

"So you are."

Nolofinwe seated him on a chair and went to seek for some clean towel and a piece of bandage. When he turned again, Fëanaro was already fumbling around his leg, trying to remove long splinters.

"Let me." Nolofinwe knelt beside him, seeing how his brother's hands were shaking.

"I know how to do that. I have seven sons!"

"You're the size of your youngest boys right now, the last I saw them at least."

"Can I go and see them? And play with them?" This time he didn't manage to fully hide his interest; the child part of his older brother was showing again, whether he liked it or not.

Nolofinwe smirked. Fëanaro spent half of the time performing his usual tasks (or at least attempting, as much as his small body would let him), but then came the moments when his childish part took over and he did things adequate for the age he looked like. Then, of course, he would deny anything had actually happened.

"Not now, certainly. Leave those scissors, they are too big for you. Don't act like a child and let me do that."

xxx

"I wish to see Nerdanel," stated Fëanaro after they finished their late dinner.

Nolofinwe arched his eyebrow, trying hard to ignore the tiny legs swinging under the table and occasionally kicking the chair.

"You'll see her once you're a bit bigger," he replied calmly. "I know you miss her, but she is far too busy with your sons to charge her with you as well."

That was a really charming pout that appeared on his brother's face. Fëanaro stared grimly at his plate for a long time, sulking.

"So they screwed again," he muttered angrily. "The Valar. They should have let me out first, so I we could deal with our children together, like we once had."

"Have you known the Valar to be always right?" asked Nolofinwe and he was rewarded with a surprised smile. "And... You know, I am not going to strangle or poison you. I am trying to get things... better," he said finally.

"I know. So should I," sighed Fëanaro and a tiny hand grasped Nolofinwe's fingers. "I am glad to be out of there. I just want to return to my family."

"Soon," promised Nolofinwe. "And besides, it wouldn't look well if I sent you back to Mandos, would it?" he said teasingly. "Hey, Fëanaro! I'm just jesting!" he called, alarmed, as the boy ran to the window and stared in amazement.

Fëanaro ignored him, still staring. Nolofinwe joined him and saw the full moon slowly raising on the sky. The child seemed to be utterly mesmerized.

"This night lamp is magnificent," said Fëanaro in wonder. "It's absolutely beautiful."

"It is," agreed Nolofinwe. He picked his brother up so he could see more clearly. "And it doesn't obscure the sight of the stars."

Fëanaro was enchanted by the silver light of the moon. Nolofinwe remembered that the Halls of Mandos were a shadowy place with nothing real around the bodiless fëas. His brother was taking being alive again surprisingly well, but no wonder he was so caught up with the sight of something he had never seen directly before.

The evening was warm and pleasant, so Nolofinwe decided to take his brother out. He still kept him in his arms, but Fëanaro didn't really mind that, too busy watching the moon and all the stars he didn't know, including his Silmaril. Seeing that, Nolofinwe sang a praise for Elbereth. He walked through the garden, enjoying the silence and the company of his not-so-awful elder brother. Before he knew, Fëanaro's childish part took over him and the boy fell asleep in his arms.

As he did so, Nolofinwe nestled him more comfortably and carried him back to the house. It was only after he placed Fëanaro in a bed when he was hit by the sudden realisation. As interesting as this experience was, no one told him how long it was going to look like that before his brother would be an adult again.

Pityanaro was Kalendeer's idea. Thanks!