I know, it took ages, but finally Feanaro got to work (play) in the forge. And he got his promised shinies.

In all honesty, Mahtan wasn't really surprised when he saw Nolofinwe and Fëanaro at his doorstep. Not even ten days passed since he had learned that his son-in-law had been released from Mandos. In fact, Mahtan expected Fëanaro to come at least three days earlier, but something or someone must have kept him occupied elsewhere. He really hoped it was because Fëanaro wished to renew his contacts with Arafinwe after a bit unfortunate reunion and not because his brothers held him away. He really wouldn't mind Fëanáro's company. And the boy – boy? – regarded him as a kind of father figure. Perhaps he could use one now...

Nolofinwe left his brother and promised to come and retrieve him before the evening, looking sheepish. Mahtan remembered well the times when little Nolofinwe had followed Fëanáro around, which had often ended with him sitting somewhere around his forges, waiting for his brother, or lurking to see just what Fëanáro had been doing. More than once had Fëanáro dropped his work to get his brother back to the palace, and he had never been happy about it. Today, however, Nolofinwe didn't stay. That, realised Mahtan, would have been even more awkward than Nolofinwe escorting little Fëanáro around.

For his part, Fëanáro didn't seem to mind at all. He was so eager to join Mahtan that he ignored his brother's bit patronising tone and dismissed him as one would dismiss a servant reporting some trivial matter. Mahtan chuckled softly and headed towards his forge before the famed Spirit could turn into fire. The boy's eyes were shining and... was he really bouncing along?!

"Is there anything particular you'd like to make?" Mahtan asked once he reminded Fëanáro the rules that were the condition of him being allowed into the forge at all. No heavy tools and nothing involving heat, which ruled out a lot of things, but still left Fëanáro a wide range of possibilities. Knowing his talents and creativity, Mahtan doubted the boy would be bored.

"How about some crystal lamps?" Fëanáro was already eyeing the colourful gems set neatly in a box on the long working table. Some were already faceted, some still raw. "I have an idea..."

"Alright," Mahtan nodded. "In fact, you could make one for me too, I need a yellow one to the garden."

Fëanáro smiled. "With pleasure."

Some of the apprentices in the forge looked surprised when they saw their master accompanied by a child, but Mahtan's glare stopped any comments before they had a chance to arise. He led Fëanáro to a free working table close to his own and as far away from the others as possible.

"I have some parts already made, you can pick from these anything you like," he took a box from the highest shelf and placed it before his ward. He knew Fëanáro would probably have wished to create his own from scratch, but he would have to settle for now with what he got. "I will help you later with the setting." Mahtan bit his tongue before adding 'have fun', though he doubted Fëanáro would have noticed, so preoccupied he was already with the gems. Lamps were always needed and making them was a pleasant break in between harder work. Once you knew how to make the crystals glow, of course.

For the next hour or two, it was as if Fëanáro wasn't even there. He only spoke to ask where he could find some tools, otherwise he worked silently and required no assistance. After having checked that the boy's precision was good enough, Mahtan decided it was safe to give him pliers and left him to his projects.

"Could you put these together for me?" Fëanáro jumped off his stool and came to Mahtan, but stopped when he saw that the smith was busy. "Oh, once you're done here, of course."

Mahtan smiled. Child or not, Fëanáro knew his way around the forge and was aware which tasks could not be stopped in the middle. He glanced over his shoulder at the other elves.

"Alquandur, bind those for him, would you," he said to his apprentice, who seemed unoccupied at the moment.

The youth moved to the working table, picking a place where Mahtan could see what he was doing. Fëanáro followed him, explaining in what way he wanted the pieces to be connected. He dragged a stool and stood on it, so that he could see everything Alquandur was doing.

The two worked together and for a while the forge turned quiet again, so Mahtan focused on his own work. However, it didn't last too long, and soon he heard Fëanáro's firm remark.

"It's not heated enough. You have to wait a little longer."

"And just how would you know that?"

"Because I do," replied Fëanáro, calm for now. "If you bind them now, the connection will be brittle and will most likely break soon."

Mahtan sighed inwardly, sensing an upcoming disaster. Alquandur had a lot to learn, yet he despised criticism when it came from others than his teacher. And to be reprimanded by a child...

The piece he was working on required his attention, so Mahtan left the problem for a moment and checked his work, searching for details that could require some corrections. The problem did not leave him though.

"Mahtan, it is not ready!" Fëanáro's high-pitched voice made him look up briefly. "Do NOT connect these!"

...There it was, right when he could not come over.

"Alquandur, you might want to listen to him, he's probably right."

The apprentice puffed in disbelief, clearly deciding that Mahtan was just humouring the child. He bent to resume his work, but Fëanáro grasped his arm, clearly unable to stand it any longer.

"Oh, let me do that," he snapped and reached for the clasps.

"We have a deal, Fëanáro," Mahtan reminded him sternly. He would not see the child operating any hot tools, especially when his own hands were busy and he would not be able to react in time.

The apprentice gasped and stared at his master. " Fëanáro? Who in Varda's stars would name a child like that?"

Fëanáro looked hurt and furious when he glanced up. "Miriel," he growled, his eyes treacherously shiny. "Leave my work before you ruin it. I'll wait." With that, he strode towards his corner, turning away from everybody.

"That's..."

"Curufinwe Fëanáro Finwion, yes." Mahtan couldn't look, but the astonished silence that followed his statement was meaningful enough.

Only after he had finished his work, Mahtan glanced at his son-in-law. Fëanáro had not moved, bent over the table and focused on whatever he was doing. Seeing that the boy had had enough time to cool down on his own, he sent the apprentices for the midday meal and came over. Fëanáro seemed not to notice him, furiously preparing more glowing crystals than he really needed.

"These are marvellous," Mahtan said sincerely once he saw bright green gems radiating with soft glow in Fëanáro's hands. Those were the hardest to make them shine. "It's not your usual colour of choice, though."

Fëanáro looked up, clearly pleased with the praise he received. "These are for Arafinwe. I saw a place in his library that could really do with a bit more of light. And green should correspond well with the window ornaments." To prove his point, Fëanáro unfolded a sheet of paper with a sketch of said window. It looked peculiar, childish on one side, but on the other consisting of all measurements necessary to create a lamp that would fit. "See? A lamp placed here should highlight the leaves and this one here..." Fëanáro reached for another sheet, lost in his explanations and eager to share his idea, but he couldn't quite hide the tremble in his tiny hands. Mahtan covered them both with his large one, startling the boy and stilling him. Fëanáro blinked in surprise and closed his fingers around the nearest gem.

"Alquandur is very young," Mahtan said quietly, placing his other hand on Fëanáro's shoulder. "He only knows you from the stories of old. Do not dwell on his words."

Fëanáro stared at the crystal in his hands. "I shouldn't care."

"It's only natural that you do," Mahtan shrugged. "Perhaps I should have forewarned them all. I'm sure once the novelty wears off, they will come to you for advice. Alquandur too."

"He already has a teacher, who once happened to be my master too."

Mahtan chuckled. "Now you make me feel ancient."

Reluctantly, Fëanáro returned the smile, then grinned unexpectedly. "You were ancient the first time I came here."

"That's charming. Now let your old master show you that he's not yet rusty," Mahtan picked the parts of crystal settings. "Shall we?"

When Nolofinwe, drawn by an old habit, came earlier than he had said, just to watch his brother work, he found him sitting on the working table and talking,. The multicolour light emanating from several crystal lamps standing around him made the forge look homely.