I own nothing.
Carnistir was bored. He got bored easily, tiny child that he was; Mama and Papa thought him too young for lessons, and so he did not learn as his brothers did. Nelyo had taught him how to read a little bit, but when Carnistir opened a book most of what he saw was nothing but scribbles, and Nelyo got impatient with him pretty easily.
Carnistir was bored, but what was unusual today was that he was lonely as well. Normally, Carnistir was happiest when left to his own devices, which meant that neither his brothers nor his parents went looking for him all that often (Except at mealtimes). But not today. Going outside was out of the question; winter had come and winter was far too cold for Carnistir's liking. He was bored, and he wanted something to do, and he wanted one of his brothers to play with him.
Easier said than done.
"Play with me," he pleaded, tugging on Turco's sleeve. Turco was in his room, writing numbers on a piece of parchment. Carnistir didn't know why he was doing it, but he could see the bored, frustrated look on Turco's face and know he didn't like it. Surely he would leave his work behind if given an excuse.
But Turco shook his hand off irritably. "No, I'm busy. Go find Russandol if you want someone to play with you."
Carnistir frowned at him. "But Nelyo left this morning." That was true. He'd seen his oldest brother leaving their home, heading deeper into Tirion just after Telperion's light waned completely.
Turco made a tsk-ing sound in the back of his throat. "Go find Kano, then. I can't play with you right now."
Kano was easily enough found. He was practicing his harp-playing in an unused room down the hall; that was just about all he did on days when he didn't have music lessons in town and he didn't have lessons at home, and wasn't out and about visiting friends. Carnistir tracked the sound and found that, a rarity indeed, the door was not locked. Then, he remembered how Papa had shouted the last time Kano had locked this particular door, and was no longer surprised.
"Kano?" Carnistir pressed open the door, and the harp-playing abruptly stopped.
"Go away, Moryo," Kano muttered absently.
The younger child scowled. "Can't I sit with you?"
"No, brother. I need my concentration. What about Turco?" He seemed to know that Nelyo was gone, as he didn't ask after him.
Carnistir shook his head. "He said no."
Kano's fingers hovered over his harp strings as he considered. "Well," he mused. "Mother's in her workshop. She'll let me sit in there with her sometimes, if I don't get in the way. Go ask her. Close the door on your way out," Kano called as Carnistir left.
For the record, Carnistir slammed the door. Kano seemed not to notice.
Carnistir went downstairs and crossed the frosty yard, shivering all the while, to get to Mama's workshop. But when he slipped inside, shivering still, as Mama had not even lit a fire in the hearth, she told him not to bother her. "I am very busy, Carnistir," she said absently, chiseling away at white marble without even seeming to notice the cold. "You being here will only distract me; go play with one of your brothers, if you're bored."
At this point, Carnistir didn't even bother to say that Nelyo was gone and the other two wouldn't play with him. It hardly mattered anymore, did it?
There was only one place left, only one person Carnistir hadn't tried yet, and frankly, he did not think he would have much success with him. But still, he tried anyways.
The door to the forge was locked, and Carnistir could hear the clanging of a hammer against metal inside. He tried knocking, but Papa didn't hear him. That wasn't unusual; even a small child knew that Papa was rarely aware of what went on outside when he was working. Carnistir decided to exercise a trait Nelyo often told him he was sorely lacking: patience. He settled down on the floor by the shut door, and waited.
Later, Fëanáro would open the door for some air, done with what he was doing for that day, and find his youngest son dozing there with his cheek pressed up against the wall. He stared at him, bewildered. "Morifinwë?" Fëanáro muttered, leaning down to try to shake him awake, but Carnistir was a deep sleeper, and did not stir.
Wordlessly, Fëanáro picked Carnistir up and held him against his chest, nudging the forge door shut with his foot, and headed to the sitting room. There, he lit a fire in the grate, and sat down. His head pillowed on Fëanáro's chest, Carnistir still slept, and he fell asleep as well, not long afterwards.
Carnistir, Moryo, Morifinwë—Caranthir
Nelyo, Russandol—Maedhros
Turco—Celegorm
Kano—Maglor
Fëanáro—Fëanor
