Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Note: This fan fiction is based on Chapter 9 - "Of the Flight of the Noldor".
As the footsteps stopped, Fëanor turned his head to face the messengers, his piercing grey eyes didn't leave their fair faces. They bowed to Fëanor and the Valar in their most polite manner, Fëanor saw Manwë smiled back to the messengers gently.
However, they all couldn't smile when the messengers told them the news they carried.
"An area of darkness had covered Formenos," they said, "Melkor was probably among it. The chambers in Formenos were all broken open, all valuable treasures were stolen, including the Simarils."
Fëanor gulped, secretly grasping his fists.
"At prince Fëanáro's house," the messengers went on, Fëanor raise his eyebrows when he heard his name was mentioned, "King Finwë had remained there when the darkness covered, and he had been slain. We have told the news." Then they left the palace hastily.
There was silence in the palace. Fëanor froze, his eyes widened, he covered his mouth with one of his hands. Silmarilli were stolen ... father was slain ... Melkor's work. He gritted his teeth, staring at the Valar.
Manwë opened his mouth to speak. "Fëanáro, it was grave news indeed - "
"Yes, very grave news!" Fëanor spat angrily, tears gathered in his eyes, nearly reaching out them. "Morgoth, the Dark Foe of the World, had taken away the two things that I most cherish, the Silmarilli and my father. I should have stayed beside my dear father and face the last moments of his life together. I should have let Morgoth pay for taking away my father's life, even I would have been slain as well," he paused, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.
"However, you, the Valar, invited me to here, to persuade me to give my most precious work to you. I wish I would have refused. I know that my father could not come back unless he was released from Mandos, but I will take back what is mine. Farewell!"
Right after speaking, Fëanor turned at the exit and darted away from the sight of the Valar. Then he didn't glance back, his dark grey eyes were watery, his flame - red cape and his raven - dark hair flowing behind him. He met his assistant again at the exit of the palace. "Bring me my horse," he commanded in a low voice. "I want to go to Formenos."
WWWW
When the horse slowly stopped, Fëanor arrived at his house. He dismounted the horse, the tears in his eyes were already dried up. Like the messengers had said, king Finwë was dead, lying in front of the door. Crimson blood had stained his white robe, his dark hair was lying on the marble floor messily, blood was seen at the edge of his mouth, his crown was next to him, lying on the ground. Fëanor knelt next to Finwë's corpse, tears reaching out from his eyes again, sliding down his cheeks, dropping on Finwë's lifeless body.
"Aran..." Fëanor called, "Atar..." He tried to call his father, secretly hoping that he was asleep. He, as an full - grown elf, knew that the messengers told no joke. Finwë could never return to Valinor.
That night, Fëanor couldn't fall asleep, he ended up crying himself to sleep.
Note: Aran and Atar mean "My king" and "My father" separately. Please correct me if I get them wrong.