The Start of Madness
A tidbit that was been lurking in the cobwebs of my brain that I need to clear to make way for more stuff. Set in Feanor's early childhood after he heard the announcement of his father's new marriage.
Disclaimer: I do not own Feanor and never claimed to.
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Feanor could not understand and so he ran.
Young as he was, he ran through the halls so fast most caught only a glimpse of red robes and black hair.
He ran as fast as he can, his mind in a whirl.
Bewildered.
Horrified.
His father, the king Finwe had summoned his son to his study after dinner. His beloved Atar and lord announced to the son of MÃriel that he intended to wed another-spoken lightly as one would comment on the weather. Feanor was shocked such that he could not moved nor spoke. Not that it was necessary; Finwe in his oblivious bliss, excitedly rumbled on to his beloved child of the siblings Indis would soon give Feanor and the joy that his firstborn will once more know a mother's love.
A mother's love? Those words shook Feanor to the core and he stared hard at Finwe.
How could his father, the one he loved and adored above all beings be so heartless? How could his father so casually replace his mother so?
Feanor was told by Finwe himself that all life is precious and each individual is unique. How then can his father replace one with another as if they were clothes to be worn and discarded at whim?
How can one be so heartless? But even more incomprehensible was the flow of elves who came in crowds to wish the king well. How can they so carelessly dismissed one whom they had shade bitter tears a mere three years past.
Are not their people suppose to be bind for eternity? What then is this?!
Why do they praise this mockery of what they once claimed was part of the central of their being?
He could not understand, did not want to understand!
So he submitted himself to the fire that was his fea and thus the slow consumption of his mind by his very own flame.