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    Summary

    "Leave me," Fëanáro whispered, though his voice betrayed him with its tremor.

    Mahtan stepped fully into the workshop, closing the door behind him with a gentle click that echoed like thunder in the tense silence. He moved with the deliberate grace of one who had navigated both the delicate art of craftsmanship and the treacherous terrain of Fëanáro's moods for centuries.

    "I think not," he replied, his voice as steady as the anvil that stood between them. "Not when I find my finest student destroying what promised to be his greatest work."

    In which Mahtan comforts Fëanor, and it... escalates.

    Series
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