It was the loud wailing from a young child that first caught Fëanáro's attention. This was one of the rare days he actually had been summoned to the palace by the orders from his father. Normally his duties as a young father and husband prevented him from being there outside grand events where he had to be present.
"Ara, please try to not cry anymore...I will try and find a adult to help…"
His two half-brothers, of course. Judging from the way little Arafinwë were nearly crying his eyes out, it was a big serious matter for him.
"Ñolofinwë, Arafinwë. What are the two of you doing here?"
At the unexpected sound of their elder brother's voice, they both looked up to see him standing not far away with his arms crossed in a atypical manner he was known for.
"My kite won't come down from that tree! And Ñolo can not climb up to reach it despite trying several times already!" Arafinwë cried loudly, pointing to the reason for his distress.
By the blisters in his palms that Ñolofinwë quickly tried to hide at the glare Fëanáro sent towards him, it had not ended too well.
"What are your careless nannies doing, allowing you to play outside alone when something like this could happen…" Fëanáro muttered in displeasure under his breath while first smearing some healing salve on Ñolofinwë's blisters, knowing too well himself how painful they could be thanks to his chosen craftsmanship as a blacksmith. After wapping the palms with some longer linen handkerchiefs that could become temporary dressings, he got ready to climb up the tree himself.
"It is not fair that you are so tall, being a adult and we still are small!" Ñolofinwë commented in a mix of awe and jealousy when the eldest brother were about to reach the kite.
"That is part of the age difference between us…!?"
"Brother, watch out!"
Crash!
Too late, the tree branch had broken under his feet just as he had loosened the kite and Fëanáro were now flat on his back on the ground, gasping for breath due to the pain in his back from the landing.
"Brother!"
"We need to get you to a healer! Atto will never forgive us if you are injured!"
Before he could protest that they were seriously exaggerating about how their father would react or even sit up to check if anything were broken, Fëanáro found himself literally dragged over the ground when Ñolofinwë and Arafinwë grabbed a boot each and started to pull on his legs. Thankfully there was no smaller rocks to hit his head on, or it would have been far more uncomfortable for Fëanáro before they even arrived to the marble floor of the corridor that lead to the garden.
"When my new son arrives in a few months, he and Nelyo better not be trying anything like this when they are old enough…"