Aphrodite had been working on it for weeks. It had taken a year of design and calculations to come up with the plan, and she had finally done it. She had made a glider, with added boosters for takeoff. And the engine was a hydrogen cell, so made water. Just as she was delicately painting on the final patterns onto the underside of the wing, a voice came from the door.
"What are you making?" It was the voice of a child, who had dark hair and was dressed in fine things, obviously the child of a noble.
"A glider. I'm going to use it to fly." Her tone was unemotional as she concentrated.
"Who are you? I've never seen you here before." He obviously wasn't going to go away anytime soon.
"I am Aphrodite, ward of the Valar. Who are you?"
"Curufinwë. But my atar said that my ammë named me Fëanáro."
Aphrodite finished her work quickly and put her paint away. "You are the son of Míriel and Finwë?"
"Yes, but ata is always busy with the gold lady, Indis. She won't ever go away and I don't like her. She keeps saying she's going to be my new ammë and I don't want a new ammë. I want my real ammë. Do you think that she didn't love me?" His voice was cracking and he looked like he was about to burst into tears.
Aphrodite moved to take the child into her arms, letting him cry into her. This was obviously part of the trigger that caused Fëanor to raise his sword against Fingolfin. "Ssh Fëanor. It's alright. I'm sure your atar loves you really. Do you want to know something?"
He nodded into her chest, "What?"
"One day you are going to be great. You are going to go to the east and help to vanquish the evil that is over there. You are going to be the bravest and the most powerful leader. But you need to remember that you are loved Fëanor. Even if you do not see it at first, you are loved. Always remember that you can find love anywhere, even in the most dark times, there will be people who will stand behind you and fight." She let him hug her until he fell asleep, when she set him on a bed while she cleared her items of craft away, hanging her glider in the temporary accommodation that she took up while working in Aulë's halls.
She then took the sleeping Fëanor to his father, handing him straight into his arms, whispering the Sindarin blessing into his ear. "Losto vae, Fëanor." Finwë thanked her, but then she interrupted him, holding a hand up to silence him. "Your son is unsure of himself. He feels that the lady Indis is replacing his place in your heart and that he is left out. I suggest, High King, that you spend more time with your son. If you let him drift too far out, then he will be lost to you forever. And that will be your inevitable downfall."
With that, she walked away, her hair bound in cloth and an apron over her tunic and leggings, hoping that Fëanor would turn out slightly better than her history remembered him to be.
As she walked away, she was suddenly pulled into another corridor by a hand, finding herself looking into the eyes of none other than Olórin.
"Go away Olórin. I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone right now."
"I just want to show you something."
She raised her eyebrows, suspicious at his behaviour. "What is it you wish to show me?"
"Just come with me."
She followed him to her accommodations, where he sat her down on her bed, admiring the glider that hung above it. "What do you want?"
He reached into his pocket and brought out a pendant on a chain, the pendant seeming to be part of the Silmaril that she had given to Manwë all those years past. "Where did you get this? This is part of the Silmaril! You must have received permission from Manwë to take it, because otherwise the trees will never be restored!"
He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I assure you that I received permission from Manwë. If I had not, then I would not have had Aulë create this for you. I have seen the Elessar, but it does not have enough power to sustain your livelyhood beyond these shores. You are more than the mere mortal that came to Aman all those years ago. Your maiar blood has spread through your veins and you are far from one of the edain."
That was what she had dreaded from when she had noticed the strange behaviour. The question. "I am sorry, but I am going to have to decline. This Silmaril is far from my status. It is not the one that Beren stole, therefore it is not mine." She hugged him, passing the piece of the Silmaril back into his palms, but he pressed it into hers.
"No, keep it. It is yours after all."
He began to walk from the room, but stopped when he came to the door.
"Aphrodite. I have no doubt that you will find love with him. I know for a fact that your heart will be captured so deeply that you will follow him to the ends of Arda."
And with that, he left, leaving her with the piece of light in her hands and years to wait for her answer on Caranthir.