There was once, in a land that has now drifted away from lore and song, a wise king who had three sons. They were the joy and pride of his life, and unto them he bestowed great gifts, teaching them his own craftsmanship and sharing with them his knowledge of the world.
The eldest of these sons was called Curufinwe, and he was the beloved of his father. Curufinwe was tall and had raven black hair; but the most interesting feature about his countenance were his fiery eyes, which were a reflection of his spirit. All the folk in his father's kingdom loved him, and whenever he spake, people felt the strong desire to follow him, stirred by the fire that lived within his heart. However, Curufinwe Feanaro was quick tempered and swift to wrath. A great passion drove all his doings, and he did nothing except that he willed it. Nobody could constrain him to action, and he followed only his own heart, or his father. He was the most skilled of word and hand from his father's children, and the quickest to learn. His spirit burned as a flame.
The second son was named Nolofinwe. He was strong as his brother Feanaro, and very brave, even the bravest of the three. He had inherited his father's steadfastness and prudence, and all things he did, he considered carefully first. He had a great love for his father, and the sense of his duty to him lived always inside his heart. His allegiance to his family and heritage came foremost to him before all things else. He ruled his life wisely, and was respected for it.
The third, and youngest son, was Arafinwe. He was the fairest and wisest of the sons of the king. From his father, Arafinwe had inherited his thirst for knowledge and his delight in words and the beauties of the world. But, from his mother, Arafinwe had inherited his sharp wit and his abillity to observe all things carefully and keenly. He learned much from others with this singular gift, and he tried to exercise it as much as he could in order to understand people, especially those who thought differently from himself. He was patient and peaceful, and he always did what his wisdom suggested.
In hopes of furthering their understanding of the world around them, the king sought to find the best teachers that could be found for his children, so they would learn and perfect any craft of their choice. They all desired to learn the art of jewelry making, the one that distinguished their kin from among the rest of the Elda. However, soon enough it became plain that neither Nolofinwe, nor Arafinwe, would ever be able to excel their elder brother in this province. His skilled surpassed even that of his teachers, and with his fast-moving hands he was able to create things so perfect that would rival even reality. The two younger brothers, therefore, turned to other fields of knowledge, eventually becoming renowned by their craft and works, but not as much as Feanaro.
The king was indeed very pleased with his three sons, individually. But, there was always a constant source of grievance to him, which darkened his happier moments and brought him much regret. Even as his greatest joy came from his sons, his greatest sorrow rose with them, for there was a strife and a breach that could not be healed even by the most skilled of healers: Curufinwe had been born to a different mother than his other two sons. He was the son of Serinde, the king's first wife. After her death, the king of the Noldor had married Indis, from the kindred of the Vanyar, and from her he had fathered two sons.
Curufinwe was not pleased by his father's marriage, and had no great love for Indis, nor for his brothers. Even though as boys they had been friendly to each other, as the three grew toward manhood the breach became wider and wider, while Curufinwe drifted apart from his two younger siblings, and even from his father.
Finwe was constantly grieved by this, for he loved his three sons, and wished them to become like him, wise, powerful, and bountiful, able to rule their houses in righteousness when the time came for them to have a home of their own. He stayed awake for many nights, trying to device a way to bring their sons together, but to no avail. He tried different things, and every time he saw his hopes turned to ashes as the gap between them seemed to widen, instead of decrease.
Still, being wise and patient, the king waited, knowing that some day, perhaps sooner than he thought, the time would come when his three sons would be forced to stay together, either by life's circumstances, or with a little help from him. It mattered not, as long as the opportunity arose; and when it did, he would be ready to seize it.
The time came quicker than he had foreseen.