Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death, Loss of bodily autonomy (no Non-con)
Chapter: 42
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
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Fëanor was before him again, after three days of absence. "So how is my weaver?"
"Caranthir is well." There was something sharp in the father, but well, that hardly mattered to him. He could almost hear the unspoken 'no thanks to you' echo in the room.
"It is a pity you took the useful one of your sons." He wasn't meant to be kind, he was meant to be sharp and hot. Much like this High Prince of the Noldor, assuming he hadn't lost that title in the dispossession. Then again, who would rule after all this was done.
He saw the proverbial hackles raise at that statement and could not quite suppress the grin. "What? I am a smith myself, IJzer's only use was in delegation... and I suppose keeping the other two in check."
The Maia wondered if the fabled flaming child of Miriel would ever lose his control, curse him as he had Morgoth once upon a time. That'd be a thing to see.
For now, the elf was still seated. "I gave you three Silmarils."
"Yes, still trying to think of what use I have for them." Though if Finarfin's latest thing went well, he did know what to use them for.
"They were for Caranthir, with the remnant going to you helping me think of a workable price for the others." As if he needed the reminder.
"For IJzer." He specified. He wasn't about to give up his important elf... that easily. He grinned again at the brief snarl on the face of IJzer's father, who did not like the new names.
"Do you have something?" No patience whatsoever. How he'd ever managed to get anything done with this amount of haste in him was a mystery.
Mairon laughed softly. "Well, I am always open for an equal exchange."
"I am not giving you one of my other sons." Almost, he almost got Fëanor to rise in rage at that suggestion. "All of them are going back to Beleriand."
"What about a Curufinwë for Curufinwë?" He counter-offered and nearly laughed again when seeing the proud son of Finu actually consider it. He would save his favorite that way, especially now. Nevermind the consequences. "Then again, I am still working on him, to have to start all over again..."
"A workable price." Fëanor repeated. "Not one made in jest."
"Come now, my prices are eminently reasonable. It is not my fault you refuse to pay them. Ask Caranthir..." He purred the name, just to watch the change in expression. "He'd gladly switch places with his little brother, I am sure."
"You are not getting any of my sons - or my grandson." The other added within the same breath. "A workable price."
"Fine, fine... Though I stand by my point that a son for a son is very workable." He had decided on one, these last few days, but had just been tempted if he'd get a better offer. "For the useless son... I suppose there'd be a certain level of poetics if you trade me more of your craft in exchange for a son again."
"I gave you what if my craft I had with me." Clearly unspoken the accusation that he was demanding a roundtrip back to Beleriand, perhaps even Valinor.
"You have working hands, do you not?" Sweet Eru, how dense was this elf? "You can simply make more, can't you?"
Fëanor recoiled, just a breath. "What would you have of me then?"
"A craft I did not trust IJzer with, since I assume he would deliver me intentionally faulty wares... and because I am administrating a small kingdom at this point, I have no time to do it myself." Aulë's once most prized Maia explained. "And I am sure you have seen some of Angband in the tapestries... or you can simply ask dear Nelyafinwë for inspiration."
"What would you have of me?" He could see the cold dread in the grey eyes, though the rest of the demeanor hid it still.
"Torture implements... enough to last me some hours. I've had to make due with whips, needles and knives these last few years. It bores me."
They both lapsed into silence for a bit at that, the grin pulling at his mouth-corner growing steadily stronger.
"I will need a forge." He had known that Fëanor would take it.
"You can use IJzer's, he's not using it anyway at the moment." He waved that away. Then, just to add some more fuel to the fire, he added. "I would advise hurrying. He'll soon be well enough for his punishment... and Fingolfin's."
