Kánafinwë Makalaurë was the second son of Fëanáro Curufinwë and Nerdanel Istarnië. He was born in Tirion only months before his half-uncle Ñolofinwë’s first child, for when Ñolofinwë had mentioned he and his wife Lady Anairë were considering having a child of their own, Fëanáro was seized with eagerness to have a second child of his own. Ñolofinwë also mused that if his child was a boy, he might name him in the pattern established by his father and continued by his brother, giving the lad a -finwë name and perhaps incorporating the element káno from his own amilessë, resulting in something like Kánafinwë, and Fëanáro found he liked the name as well. When their second son was born, Nerdanel named him Makalaurë, and his voice was so strong and beautiful even as a babe that Fëanáro was delighted to name him Kánafinwë for the might of his musical potential—and for the pleasure he took in spiting Ñolofinwë’s plans. Chagrined, Ñolofinwë was forced to choose another name for his eldest, who came to be known as Findekáno, the elements of Kánafinwë’s name inverted and patterned after the name his father received from Indis, Arakáno. Yet despite their fathers’ quarrel, Kánafinwë, his elder brother Nelyafinwë, and Findekáno were dear friends, delighting in one another’s company and the affection of their shared grandfather, High King Finwë.           Makalaurë was a musical prodigy from a young age, singing in harmony with the world around him and eagerly applying himself to lessons in music theory. He made his public debut as a singer at the tender age of five, singing to his family and the court of Tirion at the celebration of his younger brother Tyelkormo’s birth. He was greatly admired for his talents, and his half-aunt Findis connected him with her friend Elemmírë, a renowned Vanyarin minstrel who offered to tutor him. Though his father Fëanáro was at first reluctant to allow a Vanya teach his son, Makalaurë’s enthusiasm won him over, and he agreed upon the condition that Elemmírë move to Tirion to teach him. Thus Makalaurë learned from a master in his craft, and by age fifty he was declared a master himself. He toured all around Valinor with Elemmírë, and when visiting her family in Valmar he met her niece Elenwë and was briefly infatuated with her. Though Elenwë had no romantic interest in Makalaurë, the two became friends, and in time she would marry his half-cousin Turukáno.           Swiftly rising to great fame among the Vanyar and the Noldor for his musical prowess, Makalaurë turned his focus from vocal performance to learning various instruments. His favorite was the harp, of which he gained mastery at the age of one hundred, but he was proficient in every instrument in Aman and even invented a few of his own, though unlike his father his passion was never in creating new and wonderful things, but rather in expressing the beauty of the world around him. He performed frequently, basking in the praise heaped upon him, and became rather vain and overconfident. Makalaurë pursued a few flirtations with fellow musicians, but none lasted very long, for their intimidation and his pride left little room for equal dialogue, and in truth he did not mind the failure of his relationships, for they provided him with emotional material with which to write new songs.           This changed when he encountered a poem dedicated to none other than himself by an author who signed her name as only Tecnyarindë, “the writer.” The description of his music in such concise words deeply moved him, and he found himself humbled by the skill of the poet. Makalaurë sought out this mysterious poet, and when he met her, he was immediately smitten by her charm and the beauty of her deep green eyes, for which she was named Ezellë. They swiftly became friends, then sweethearts, and in no time at all they were betrothed, for their talents complemented one another and Makalaurë found he could always rely on her to be honest and constructive with him creatively. He was the first of Finwë’s grandchildren to marry, and thus his wedding was a spectacular affair. Though there was some strife between his father and Ezellë’s mother, the ceremony was beautiful, and Ezellë was adored by her husband’s family and welcomed gladly into the House of Fëanáro.           Ezellë and Makalaurë had a happy marriage in the Days of Bliss, collaborating together on many stunning compositions. But Ezellë never wished for offspring of her own, and so they remained childless, to Makalaurë’s quiet sorrow. Still, he loved his wife dearly and never asked more of her than she was willing to give, and thus they were glad together. When the Noldor were stirred to unrest and Fëanáro drew a sword against his brother Ñolofinwë, Makalaurë stood firmly by his father’s side, following him to exile in Formenos along with all his brothers. Ezellë did not accompany him, but they remained on good terms and corresponded frequently. She spent much of her time in Tirion writing in support of Fëanáro, building his following in his absence and ensuring that he was not forgotten in his exile, and on occasion Makalaurë would even sneak away to Tirion with Maitimo his brother so that they both might visit the spouses from which they were sundered.           When the Darkening fell upon Valinórë, Makalaurë was deeply shaken by the murder of his grandfather Finwë by the Dark Vala Moringotto, and caught up in the fury of his father at all that had been taken from him. Fëanáro was greatly changed in his grief and anger: his pride and suspicion had transformed into a wild madness that gripped him and all to whom he spoke, and rallying the Noldor around him he declared his intention to forsake Aman and return to Endórë, chasing after Moringotto to avenge Finwë and reclaim the Silmarils. There was much disagreement among the Noldor of whether to follow Fëanáro as their new King, and of those speaking against him in dismay, Ezellë was one of the strongest voices, for she had realized—too late—that she was in part responsible for the discontent of her people. Makalaurë confronted her, but Ezellë would not take back her harsh words and spurned her husband, refusing to follow him to Endórë, much to his desperate sorrow.           But he had little time to mourn the breaking of his marriage, for then Fëanáro swore a terrible Oath. His seven sons, Makalaurë among them, leapt straightway to his side and took the selfsame vow together, and red as blood shone their drawn swords in the glare of the torches. They swore an Oath which none shall break, and none should take, by the name even of Ilúvatar, calling the Everlasting Dark upon them if they kept it not; and Manwë they named in witness, and Varda, and the hallowed mountain of Taniquetil, vowing to pursue with vengeance and hatred to the ends of the World any Vala, Demon, Elf or Man as yet unborn, or any creature, great or small, good or evil, that time should bring forth unto the end of days, whoso should hold or take or keep a Silmaril from their possession.           Waiting no longer, Fëanáro leapt forth and led his people from their homes in Tirion, hastening to the eastern shores of Aman and the port of Alqualondë where the Teleri dwelt. There he demanded the use of their precious swan-ships, and was denied; and when he could see no other option, he resolved to take them by force. Yet the Teleri resisted, and swords were drawn, and soon blood was shed upon the piers and the sands, and elf slew elf for the first time, a grievous crime that would not be forgotten. At last the Noldor prevailed when the host of Ñolofinwë arrived with fresh warriors, and the Teleri were defeated; amid this battle, Makalaurë was nearly slain himself, saved only by his servant Cúlalmion who would become his right hand in Beleriand.           In the grim aftermath of the bloodshed, Makalaurë raised his voice in song and began to compose his greatest and most dreadful work, the Noldolantë, or Lament for the Noldor. Now Ezellë still held love for Makalaurë in her heart, and it had not taken much time for her mind to change and her feet to carry her swiftly to the shores of the sea, but upon hearing her husband’s lament in the air and learning of the Kinslaying, she was so horrified that she turned back and fled to Tirion once more. She repudiated her husband’s deeds and dedicate her writing to righting her wrongs and speaking bitterly against the Fëanárions, including and especially Makalaurë.           Fëanáro took the swan-ships he had killed to steal, spurning the warning of Mandos and the Doom laid upon the Noldor, and sailed across the Sundering Seas as he had sworn. Upon reaching the far shore with only his loyal followers, he betrayed the second host of the Noldor, for he did not trust his half-brother Ñolofinwë and had no intention of bringing him or his kin with him any further. Fëanáro commanded the ships to be burnt, and all of his followers cast torches upon the beautiful swan-ships of the Teleri, consigning them to fame, and Makalaurë was not innocent of this deed. Maitimo alone stood aside in shock and horror, and it would become one of Makalaurë’s deepest regrets that he had not the courage to follow his elder brother’s example, especially when it became clear that his youngest brother Umbarto was yet aboard the ships as they burnt. Maitimo and Umbarto’s twin Ambarussa managed to save him from the flames, and Makalaurë was so stricken with guilt at his part in the dooming of his little brother that he sat vigil by Umbarto’s sickbed, Singing with the healers and bringing him back from the brink of death, though his power in healing song was much diminished from his part in the Kinslaying.           Soon the host of the Noldor were caught in another battle, this time with monstrous creatures of the Enemy’s creation, and Makalaurë joined his brothers in slaughtering many orcs. Though this Battle under Starlight was a resounding victory, Fëanáro was not content to bide his time and strategize on how to defeat Moringotto, and rushed to attack his stronghold of Angamando. This rash decision would cost him his life, for though his sons drove off his attackers and carried him to the shadow of the mountains, his wounds were mortal and he bade them halt. Even Umbarto, scarred and burnt from his father’s deeds, hobbled to meet his brothers as Fëanáro cursed Moringotto and demanded his sons renew their Oath. Into the hands of Nelyafinwë his eldest son he pressed a green stone he had made long ago in Valinor, passing the burden of kingship onto him the eldest of his sons, and then at last he perished, the fire of his spirit so hot that his hröa burned to ash as his fëa fled to Mandos.           Maitimo was crowned king, but even in the hour of Fëanáro’s death Moringotto sent a messenger seeking parlay with the new High King. After deliberation and an attempt at finding allies, Maitimo at last decided—against his brothers’ counsel—to feign treaty with their Enemy, though he knew it would likely be his doom. He insisted all his brothers would remain behind, and passed the green stone of his birthright onto Makalaurë, marching forth to a battle from which he would not return. When a second messenger of Moringotto came to the camp of the Noldor, telling of Maitimo’s defeat and capture within the depths of Angamando, Makalaurë was forced into a leading role he had never desired and was not equipped to handle. Not trusting the Enemy to honor any promises or bargains, he refused to surrender as Moringotto demanded and thus doomed Maitimo to torment and imprisonment, a choice that would haunt him all his life for all there was, realistically, no other option.           Yet Makalaurë refused to take upon himself the mantle of High King, for he insisted Maitimo yet lived. Instead he ruled as a regent, struggling to keep his brothers in line and to defend and support his father’s followers who now counted on him to lead. He ordered the defenses of their settlement to be built up and established some limited trade with the local Þindar elves—but when the Ñolofinwëan host miraculously arrived in Beleriand, having crossed the Grinding Ice, he uprooted his people to the other side of the lake, where they now would begin making a second camp. This was done, he claimed, to avoid conflict between the two hosts, but in truth he and much of his people were deeply ashamed at their betrayal of their kinsfolk, and attempted to offer them what little restitution they could in the form of ready shelter.           Inevitably, Makalaurë’s conscience (and the urging of his impatient brothers) led him to reach out to Ñolofinwë, and the two hosts exchanged tidings of their separation. The rift between the Noldor was deep and seemingly impassable, even with Fëanáro dead; Makalaurë lamented the loss of Maitimo, for surely he would have known how to handle this sudden reappearance of those they had thought sundered from them forever. Upon learning of Maitimo’s capture, Findekáno his friend and secret husband disappeared, and accusations of kidnapping were soon to spread, only furthering the tension between the two hosts. Makalaurë’s brothers pressured him now more than ever to claim his place as High King, for they needed a strong leader if they were to come to blows with their kin across the lake, and when he realized that ruthless Tyelkormo would usurp him if he did not take up the crown, Makalaurë at last conceded.           With much sorrow, Maitimo was declared dead, and Makalaurë’s coronation was prepared. None of Ñolofinwë’s people were invited to the ceremony, despite his claiming of kingship over all those Noldor who dwelt in Beleriand, and relations between the two hosts seemed poised to devolve into a civil war—but in that crucial moment, just before the crown was placed upon Makalaurë’s brow, his only nephew Tyelperinquar burst inside the hall crying out that Maitimo had returned! And indeed, the impossible had come true: Maitimo, bent and disfigured but nonetheless alive walked toward them with the aid of Findekáno his savior, and the Sons of Fëanáro were at last reunited.           Maitimo reasserted his authority over his brothers and their host, and though they were all glad to see him living they were shocked by the great change that had come upon him, and he struggled to forgive them for their abandonment, no matter the wisdom of that choice. Makalaurë, who had always been closest to him, found himself shut out from his brother’s counsel, which he knew was deserved for his many failures as regent, but still broke his heart. When Maitimo purposed to cede the High Kingship to Ñolofinwë and reconcile the two hosts of the Noldor at long last, Makalaurë alone of his brothers supported his decision, for he knew his uncle’s strength as a leader and moreover felt he had much to repent for to both Ñolofinwë and Maitimo. Thus the crown passed from the House of Fëanáro to his hated half-brother, and Maitimo and his brothers were dispossessed, even as Mandos had foretold.           Though the Noldor were reconciled under the rulership of Ñolofinwë, who now took up the name Fingolfin in the Grey-elven tongue, the two hosts yet held tension between them and Maitimo, known now as Maedhros, thought it wise to take his brothers and depart into the east of Beleriand, setting up a leaguer against Morgoth and removing them from potential conflict with their kin. Maedhros took his people and traveled east, constructing a fortress upon the Hill of Himring and gathering many brave soldiers and ex-thralls under his command. When the keep was completed, Maedhros sent his brothers to establish their own lands while he remained as Himring’s lord, watching over the plain of Ard-galen and the not-so-distant towers of Thangorodrim. Makalaurë’s chosen lands were not far from Himring: he defended the open area between mountain ranges that was known as Maglor’s Gap after his own Sindarin name, leading a force of cavalry that kept the orcs at bay so long as the Siege of Angband lasted.           Twenty years after the rising of the Sun, High King Fingolfin held a mighty feast at the Wells of Ivrin, inviting all his scattered kindred and their newly-established Sindarin allies. Here Maglor met the famed minstrel Daeron of Doriath, who alone rivaled him in musical skill, and they engaged in a contest of ability that was remembered for Ages by those who were privileged enough to witness it. Charmed by Daeron’s talent and caught up in the passion of their music, Maglor invited him to collaborate on a song, but soon their time together in close quarters evolved into a passion of a different kind. Putting Ezellë behind him and embracing the Sindar’s looser customs around sexuality, Maglor took Daeron to bed, and though they would not meet again in Beleriand, the memory of those blissful nights left a deep impression upon them both.

          Nelyafinwë Maitimo was the eldest son of Fëanáro Curufinwë and Nerdanel Istarnië, born in Tirion not even a full year after their wedding. Fëanáro chose his eldest son’s name to honor the child’s grandfather High King Finwë, and more pointedly to emphasize his place as the third heir to the Noldorin crown, surpassing his half-uncle Ñolofinwë despite being the younger between them. From his mother Nelyafinwë received the name Maitimo, for of all her many creations, he was the most beautiful, and she had put the most of herself into his making. Maitimo grew into a clever and sensitive young nér, inheriting his father’s silver eyes and fiery passion alongside his mother’s patient wisdom and ruddy hair. He was the eldest of Finwë’s grandchildren, and to the cousins and brothers that would come after him he would ever be a reliable, comforting presence, a role he accepted with pride and expanded into adulthood when he entered the political realm of Finwë’s court.           The first of his younger relatives to be born was his brother Kánafinwë Makalaurë, soon followed by his cousin Findekáno Ñolofinwion. Despite their fathers’ quarrel, Maitimo, Makalaurë, and Findekáno were dear friends, delighting in one another’s company and the affection of their shared grandfather, which only grew as the House of Finwë expanded and more cousins and brothers were born. Findekáno and Maitimo were especial friends from an early age, and when Findekáno expressed the truth of his fëa, that he was a boy and not a girl as he had been supposed at birth, Maitimo was the first person he confided in. With Maitimo’s support, Findekáno declared himself to his family and was accepted as a Prince of the Noldor, and seeing the bond between their sons, Fëanáro and Ñolofinwë agreed to Maitimo’s proposition that he might tutor young Findekáno in his letters and arithmetic.           As they grew into strong and beautiful young néri, Findekáno and Maitimo’s friendship only grew stronger, and indeed began to develop into an altogether different kind of affection. Maitimo was oblivious of this shift for a time, but Findekáno knew his feelings well, and as an expression of his love he gave an epessë to his dear companion: Russandol, “copper-top,” for Maitimo’s brilliant coppery hair. As the Years of the Trees passed one into the next, Maitimo gradually began to realize the depth of his affection for his dearest friend, and though he worried of the political implications of the eldest son of Fëanáro pledging himself to the eldest son of Ñolofinwë, Findekáno was patient and persistent in the pursual of his love, and eventually Maitimo surrendered to his feelings and the two princes entered into a romantic relationship. The necessarily secret nature of their love strained the both of them, and they despaired at ever being able to marry, but Maitimo found he had a clear-minded confidante in his brother Makalaurë, who was always able to encourage him—and who was always glad to have more material with which to write another love song.           As unrest spread its way through the Noldor, Maitimo and Findekáno, both politically involved and steadfast supporters of their respective fathers, found a wedge driven between them by the lies of the Dark Vala Melkor. Though in private they remained tender and passionate with one another, in public they clashed frequently, and this dissonance in their relationship challenged the strength of their love. But when Fëanáro threatened Ñolofinwë with a sword, and the Valar discovered the source of the Noldor’s turmoil to be Melkor, Findekáno and Maitimo clung to one another amid the chaos, committing to one another over anything else. Though Maitimo would follow his father into exile, on the eve of his departure he and Findekáno took their wedding vows in the sight of Eru Ilúvatar, marrying secretly and without ceremony. Throughout the years of their separation, their marriage bond and the letters they exchanged kept their love strong, and on occasion Maitimo would even sneak away to Tirion with Makalaurë his brother so that they both might visit the spouses from which they were sundered.           When Fëanáro was called to reconcile with his half-brother before the Valar, Maitimo wished to accompany him to the festival, but was denied. Instead he remained in Formenos with his six younger brothers and his grandfather Finwë, and when the Two Trees were destroyed and the world was plunged suddenly into Darkness, Maitimo took charge of his brothers and ordered them to hide as Melkor approached the gate. Finwë alone stood to face the Dark Vala, and for his defiance he was slain, and Fëanáro’s Silmarils stolen; but Maitimo protected his brothers, and they each survived, hurrying from the isolated fortress to bring the dreadful news to their father.           Upon learning of his father’s murder and the theft of his most precious creations, Fëanáro cursed Melkor, naming him Moringotto, the Black Foe; and in his rage he ran into the Darkness wailing in pure agony. The Noldor were in chaos at the death of their king and his heir’s descent into madness, and though Maitimo and Ñolofinwë attempted to calm them, there was little to be done as they fled back to Tirion in utter disarray. There Maitimo reunited with Findekáno his husband, and they came together in the dark, mourning the loss of their father and the Light of the Trees and taking comfort in one another.           When Fëanáro at last emerged, he was changed: his pride and suspicion had transformed into a wild madness that gripped him and all to whom he spoke, and rallying the Noldor around him he declared his intention to forsake Aman and return to Endórë, chasing after Moringotto to avenge Finwë and reclaim the Silmarils. There was much disagreement among his people of whether to follow Fëanáro as their new King: chief among the dissenters was Ñolofinwë, and their arguments would have come to blows in the square of Tirion had not Maitimo and Findekáno pleaded with their fathers to diffuse the situation, communicating with one another through their marriage bond. But by no means was Maitimo desirous to remain in Aman, and he spoke fiercely in favor of his father’s plans, his skills in oratory swaying many to Fëanáro’s side. In the end the words of Fëanáro and his sons were so powerful that the greater part of the Noldor were swayed, and Ñolofinwë had sworn to follow his brother and would not go back on his vow.           Then Fëanáro swore a terrible Oath. His seven sons, led first of all by Nelyafinwë Maitimo, leapt straightway to his side and took the selfsame vow together, and red as blood shone their drawn swords in the glare of the torches. They swore an Oath which none shall break, and none should take, by the name even of Ilúvatar, calling the Everlasting Dark upon them if they kept it not; and Manwë they named in witness, and Varda, and the hallowed mountain of Taniquetil, vowing to pursue with vengeance and hatred to the ends of the World any Vala, Demon, Elf or Man as yet unborn, or any creature, great or small, good or evil, that time should bring forth unto the end of days, whoso should hold or take or keep a Silmaril from their possession.           And waiting no longer, Fëanáro leapt forth and led his people from their homes in Tirion, hastening to the eastern shores of Aman and the port of Alqualondë where the Teleri dwelt. There he demanded the use of their precious swan-ships, and was denied; and when he could see no other option, he resolved to take them by force. Yet the Teleri resisted, and swords were drawn, and soon blood was shed upon the piers and the sands, and elf slew elf for the first time, a grievous crime that would not be forgotten. At last the Noldor prevailed, for when Fëanáro and his sons and their followers seemed about to fall, the second host of Ñolofinwë arrived, and led by Findekáno who ever rushed after Maitimo his beloved, the battle was joined with fresh warriors, and the Teleri were defeated. Afterward, Maitimo was horrified and repentant for the evil he had wrought, and most of all he regretted dragging Findekáno into the selfsame darkness, but Findekáno insisted on accepting his own guilt, for though he had not known that the Noldor were the aggressors in this Kinslaying he knew he would have rushed to his husband’s defense all the same.           Fëanáro took the swan-ships he had killed to steal, and with his people sailed north up the coast of Araman to find the best place to cross the Sundering Seas. But the wrath of Uinen was terrible at the slaughter of her beloved people, and many ships were drowned in her storms, though none of Fëanáro’s household were lost. Indeed, Maitimo saved many from the treacherous waters, and earned their loyalty, for he most of all his brothers was mindful of the hearts and minds of their followers.           Then Mandos himself descended upon the assembled host of the Noldor and declared a grievous Doom upon them, that all their deeds would turn to evil, and their great suffering would go unheard by the Valar. Now Arafinwë, who was most reluctant to follow his half-brother, turned back and repented, and with him went some of their people on the sorrowful trek back to Valinor, but the greater part of the Noldor remained, and Ñolofinwë yet followed in Fëanáro’s train, and Findekáno with him in the van, ever striving to be near to his beloved Russandol.           But despite Ñolofinwë’s loyalty, Fëanáro did not trust his half-brother, and growing ever more paranoid he gathered his most faithful followers and boarded the swan-ships in secret. He and his sons set sail for Endórë, and upon their arrival, Maitimo turned to his father and asked if Findekáno his friend (for such he was in the eyes of Fëanáro) would arrive next when they sent the ships back. But Fëanáro laughed, and ordered the ships to be burnt, for he had no intention of bringing Ñolofinwë or his kin with him any further, and though all his followers cast torches upon the beautiful swan-ships of the Teleri, Maitimo alone stood aside in shock and horror, watching as his father destroyed any hope of reuniting with his secret husband.           Thus it was that Maitimo was the first to notice the distress of his brother Ambarussa, who could not find his twin—and thus it was that they discovered that Telufinwë Umbarto, the youngest of Fëanáro’s sons, had not disembarked onto land, for he wished secretly to return home to his mother. Frantically, Ambarussa and Maitimo swam to the burning boat where Umbarto was trapped, and dragged him screaming from the wreck. Seeing the horror his deeds had wrought, and the near-murder of his own son, Fëanáro was briefly shocked out of his madness enough to see to it that Telufinwë was healed and a camp was established on the shores of a great lake. But soon they faced more danger, for Moringotto’s army of orcish slaves now roamed the land attacking any elves they came across, and Fëanáro led his followers against them in a resounding victory.           Overambitious and mad with a thirst for vengeance, Fëanáro refused the advice of Maitimo to proceed with caution and instead marched for Moringotto’s dark fortress, purposing to slay him and seize the Silmarils, for his Oath burned within him. But Moringotto loosed great fire-monsters against him, and these corrupted Maiar, the Balrogs, overwhelmed Fëanáro’s host, slaughtering them all and wrapping their fiery whips around their leader. Long did Fëanáro resist them, laughing madly all the while, but at last he was smitten to the ground by Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, and would have died had not his sons come upon him suddenly to save him.           His sons bore him up and retreated, but his wounds were mortal, and even as they reached the shadow of the mountains, he bade them halt. Even Umbarto, scarred and burnt from his father’s deeds, hobbled to meet his brothers as Fëanáro cursed Moringotto and demanded his sons renew their Oath. Into the hands of Nelyafinwë his eldest son he pressed a green stone he had made long ago in Valinor, passing the burden of kingship onto him the eldest of his sons, and then at last he perished, the fire of his spirit so hot that his hröa burned to ash as his fëa fled to Mandos.           Heavy with grief and horror, Maitimo nevertheless rose to the occasion, and was crowned High King Nelyafinwë of the Noldor, wearing the green jewel upon his breast. Even in the hour of Fëanáro’s death, Moringotto sent a messenger seeking parlay with the new High King, and though Maitimo trusted the Black Foe not at all, he did not immediately reject this request. He reached out to the Þindar natives of Beleriand, attempting to ally with them against their common foe, but despite their awe of the flame-eyed newcomers, the Þindar refused to fight against an enemy against which they could see no victory. Thus it was that Maitimo conceded to the pull of the Oath and devised to feign treaty with Moringotto, though in truth he planned for a desperate battle and had little hope of success. He insisted his brothers remain behind at the camp by Lake Mithrim, leaving with them the green stone of his birthright, and marched forth knowingly to his Doom with only the thought that his beloved Findekáno was at least safe in Aman and would not know the horrors of Beleriand.           Now Moringotto had as little thought of faith as did Maitimo, and brought a mighty force against the Noldor who came to treat with him. A battle was commenced, and though Maitimo and his soldiers fought valiantly, the strength of Moringotto was greater, and they were overwhelmed and slaughtered to the last elf. Maitimo alone was spared, and as he was dragged into the depths of Moringotto’s dread fortress Angamando, he realized with mounting horror that he was not be killed, and that a fate much, much worse than death awaited him. Maitimo was taken before Moringotto and humiliated; and when his brothers refused to trade his life in exchange for turning back upon their Oath, he knew he was doomed utterly, and he lamented bitterly that they would forsake him, even though as a leader he approved of their choice.

          Fëanáro was the eldest son of Finwë Noldóran and his only child with his first wife, Míriel Þerindë. When Fëanáro was yet a babe, Míriel found herself so weary from pouring her spirit into her son that she could not remain in her physical form, and thus exhausted she lay down her life in the Gardens of Lórien, her fëa departing willingly for the Halls of Mandos as no elf had done before. Thus Fëanáro was orphaned of his mother, a fate suffered by no other children born in the bliss of Aman, and though his father adored him he felt keenly the loss of his mother.            Young Fëanáro was a brilliant child, precocious and inventive, inheriting the talents of both his parents. Finwë dearly mourned his wife’s death, and threw all of himself into parenting his son, indulging his every desire and lauding his every accomplishment; so dearly did he love his son that he named him after himself: Finwë Fëanáro. This praise and pride were not undeserved, for Fëanáro would become the greatest craftsman of all the Eldar and indeed one of the most powerful elves in all of Arda. In his youth he bettered the work of his tutor Rúmil, creating the Tengwar alphabet from the structure of the Sarati; he was a remarkable linguist who even learned the tongue of the Valar. He developed a method of gem-crafting by which he could create jewels greater and brighter than those that could be found in the earth, using his own skills as a smith and an inventor.           While Fëanáro was yet young, Finwë his father allowed his thoughts to turn to Indis the Fair of the Vanyar and began to court her. At this Fëanáro was astonished and dismayed, for he had believed his father loved his departed mother singly and wholly, and furthermore Indis had helped care for him as a child. This betrayal only depend when Finwë and Indis sought permission from the Valar to wed despite Finwë’s prior bond to Míriel, resulting in the ruling that if Finwë were to remarry, Míriel would be confined to the Halls of Mandos forever, with no chance of returning to life. Fëanáro was deeply distraught by this decree, and unable to blame his beloved father for anything, he turned his anger toward Indis and blamed her for robbing him of a mother entirely.           Indis bore Finwë four children, but despite their father’s wishes, there was never any hope for Fëanáro to love his half-siblings. Findis, the eldest, he tolerated, for as a daughter she posed no threat of replacing him; but when Finwë Arakáno was born, Finwë Fëanáro grew increasingly jealous of his father’s attention despite Finwë Noldóran’s devotion to him first and foremost. To appease his eldest son’s outrage, he lengthened his father-name to Curufinwë in celebration of his great skill, and in time would grant his second son a prefix of his own: Ñolofinwë, differentiating the brothers even further. Indis’ third child, Írimë Lalwendë, Fëanáro all but ignored, despite her rash attempts to win his favor, and the youngest, Arafinwë Ingoldo, he openly dismissed even as an infant.           Soon Fëanáro grew old enough to leave his father’s house, and he struck out on many long journeys alone, exploring the vastness of Aman. On one such adventure, he encountered a sculptor searching for good stone who introduced herself only as Nerdë. In turn he gave her his name as Náro, and they became fast friends and companions in many journeys, enjoying their mutual anonymity and the freedom they felt together. But Fëanáro was yet a prince of the Noldor, and eager to further his craft he apprenticed under the smith Mahtan Aulendur, quickly learning all he had to teach him in matters of metal and stone and turning to his own unique creations with his mentor’s support. A year into his apprenticeship, Mahtan’s wife Ontamë and daughter Nerdanel returned home from a pilgrimage to Valmar, and when they were introduced to one another Fëanáro and Nerdanel were astonished to discover they were already acquainted!           Nerdanel took the revelation of her friend’s identity as a prince in stride, and her wise practicality left a lasting impression upon Fëanáro, who quickly became quite smitten with her. Though they were still young by the count of the Eldar, Fëanáro and Nerdanel were soon betrothed. Despite the court in Tirion’s gossip about Nerdanel’s homely appearance, Fëanáro was fiercely devoted to his beloved, and Nerdanel never once doubted his adoration for her. Indeed, with his quick temper and stubborn will, it was proof to her of his love that he would listen to her alone when she gave him cautious counsel, and she loved him deeply in turn.           Not even a full year after their wedding their first child, Nelyafinwë Maitimo, was born. Fëanáro chose his eldest son’s name to honor the child’s grandfather Finwë, and more pointedly to emphasize his place as the third heir to the Noldorin crown, surpassing Ñolofinwë despite being the younger between them. From his mother Nelyafinwë received the name Maitimo, for of all her many creations, he was the most beautiful, and she had put the most of herself into his making. Nelyafinwë grew into a clever and sensitive young nér, inheriting his father’s silver eyes and fiery passion alongside his mother’s patient wisdom and ruddy hair. He was the eldest of Finwë’s grandchildren, and to the cousins and brothers that would come after him he would ever be a reliable, comforting presence, a role he accepted with pride and expanded into adulthood when he entered the political realm of Finwë’s court.           The first of his younger relatives to be born was his brother, begotten shortly after Ñolofinwë married the Lady Anairë, once a friend of Fëanáro and his fellow pupil under Master Rúmil, though their friendship waned when she married his half-brother. When Ñolofinwë mentioned he and his wife were considering having a child of their own, Fëanáro was seized with eagerness to have a second child of his own; when Ñolofinwë mused that if his child was a boy, he might name him in the pattern established by his father and continued by his brother, giving the lad a -finwë name and perhaps incorporating the element káno from his own amilessë, resulting in something like Kánafinwë, Fëanáro found he liked the name as well.           Only months before Anairë’s eldest was born, Nerdanel delivered Fëanáro a second son. She named him Makalaurë, and his voice was so strong and beautiful even as a babe that Fëanáro was delighted to name him Kánafinwë for the might of his musical potential—and for the pleasure he took in spiting Ñolofinwë’s plans. Chagrined, Ñolofinwë was forced to choose another name for his eldest, who came to be known as Findekáno, the elements of Kánafinwë’s name inverted and patterned after the name his father received from Indis, Arakáno. Yet despite their fathers’ quarrel, Nelyafinwë, Kánafinwë, and Findekáno were dear friends, delighting in one another’s company and the affection of their shared grandfather.           Fëanáro’s third child was born in the same year both his brothers had sons of their own. Findaráto, son of Arafinwë Ingoldo, was the eldest, followed by Fëanáro’s son Turcafinwë Tyelkormo, and lastly Turukáno Núrondil, son of Ñolofinwë, who refused to allow Fëanáro’s claiming of the prefix meaning “powerful” to stop him from granting a similar name to his second child. Though Findaráto and Turukáno would be fast friends all their lives, Turcafinwë was a much wilder child, preferring the company of the forest to that of his cousins, and even of his brothers. He was unimpressed with his younger brother Morifinwë Carnistir, fourth of Fëanáro’s sons, though Morifinwë was a solitary sole himself and preferred to be left alone as well.           Fëanáro’s fifth son was his favorite from the moment of his birth. This child greatly resembled him in mood and face, so much so that Nerdanel his mother gave him the name Atarinkë, “little father.” Fëanáro granted Atarinkë the gift of his own father-name, making him the second Curufinwë, who would inherit most of his father’s skill and hand, and the greatest portion of his love. Upon little Curufinwë’s birth, Turcafinwë found himself drawn to this brother and immediately latched onto him, taking care of him and even delaying his plans to join the Hunt of Oromë for young Curvo’s sake.           The House of Finwë only grew, and though all the grandchildren of the High King were each other’s companions, none were so close in friendship as were Nelyafinwë and Findekáno. Fëanáro was begrudgingly fond of his half-nephew, though he did his best not to show it, and despite Nelyafinwë’s name being a personal and political snub to him, Ñolofinwë grew to love and respect his nephew, gladly welcoming him into his home whenever he visited Findekáno. Many decades passed, and though the Noldorin royalty were not always at peace, they were united under the leadership of Finwë and the example of Nelyafinwë and Findekáno’s love for one another.           It was something of a surprise when Nerdanel announced her sixth pregnancy, for no elf had ever before borne more than five children. Even more shocking was the birth of her twins, an exceedingly rare occurrence among the Eldar, bringing the total count of Fëanáro’s sons to seven! Wearied by her labors, Nerdanel gave her youngest sons the same mother-name, Ambarussa, but by their father they were named Pityafinwë and Telufinwë, the latter of which symbolized that Fëanáro’s twins were to be the last of Finwë’s grandchildren. But in the end, it was Ñolofinwë who had the last word in this contest of offspring, for not two years later Anairë bore her last child, whom he named Arakáno after himself. Yet despite this, when young Arakáno approached his uncle for lessons in smithcraft, Fëanáro found he could not deny the lad and agreed to teach him much of what he knew.           Yet Fëanáro’s mind grew ever prouder as his skills reached new heights, and he ceased to listen to the advice of Nerdanel his wife. This tension between them manifested when Fëanáro declared that the Ambarussa had grown too old to still share a mother-name, and Nerdanel snapped. Frustrated that he ignored her counsel and now attempted to take over her part in parenting their youngest, she retaliated by giving Telufinwë the name Umbarto, “the Fated,” portending an ominous fate for him that would be his father’s fault. Enraged, Fëanáro altered the name to Ambarto, “upwards-exalted,” insisting that whatever fate awaited him would be glorious, and despite the twins’ protests to cease fighting and that they were happy to share the name Ambarussa, Nerdanel’s anger was so great that she departed from from their home and returned to her parents’ house until her temper cooled. It was not until the wedding of Curufinwë Atarinkë that Nerdanel reconciled with her husband, and with the birth of their first grandchild, Curufinwë Tyelperinquar, third to bear his father-name, their disagreements were put into the past.           Over the years, Fëanáro continued his craft, and became obsessed with the concept of capturing light. This manifested first with the creation of his Fëanárian Lamps, which glowed with an undying light all their own, but he wished to combine his newfound skill with his proficiency in jewelcraft and even to capture the light of the Two Trees. Knowing that his half-niece Artanís, daughter of Arafinwë, had glorious hair which had caught that light on its own, he traveled to Alqualondë to demand she give him three strands of his hair for him to study. But Artanís had never liked her uncle and his arrogance, and so refused him, and they were unfriends forever after.           But this setback only hindered Fëanáro for a few years. Continuing his studies of light, he invented the substance silima, and began his master work, to preserve the light of the Trees in a manner imperishable. With all his knowledge of lore, the power of his spirit, and his subtle skill in gemcraft, Fëanáro at long last brought about his greatest creation: the Silmarils, three stunning white jewels of exceeding strength which held within them the light of Telperion and Laurelin, and shone with a radiance all their own, emanating a great power of which no other creation of Elves or Men has ever surpassed. All of Aman was filled with awe and delight at this accomplishment, and though he did not ask it, Varda Elentári herself hallowed the Silmarils so that no evil thing might touch them, and Námo Mandos foretold that the fate of Arda itself lay locked within him.           Now Fëanáro’s pride grew to greater heights than ever before, and with his very soul entwined with his mighty creations, he became jealous of their light, fearing they would be taken from him. At this time rumors and dissent spread among the Noldor, for the Dark Vala Melkor had been released from his imprisonment, and though he feigned repentance he was yet a master of lies and cruelty. Though Fëanáro scorned Melkor’s offers of teaching and friendship, these rumors took root in his heart, especially the those that pitted his half-brothers against him. Never on good terms with Ñolofinwë, Fëanáro began to quarrel with him in earnest, and became so paranoid that his half-brother would usurp him that he began the forging of blades in secret, which never before had been done in Aman, for violence had been left behind in Endórë. And it was not only Ñolofinwë whom Fëanáro distrusted, but the Valar also, for they were reluctant to allow any elves to return to the lands of their awakening, and he yet nursed bitterness against them for the fate of his mother Míriel.           Deeply troubled by this unrest, Finwë summoned a council of his people, and Ñolofinwë hastened to his father to lament Fëanáro’s unjustness against him. But even as he spoke, Fëanáro burst forth into the throne room, armed and armored, and threatened his half-brother with a sword, rebuking him. Immediately Ñolofinwë departed, but there was a great outcry in Tirion, and the Valar called a trial for Fëanáro’s most grievous offense, for never before had any elf raised a weapon against one of their own kind. Before the Ring of Doom, the truth of Melkor’s deceit was unraveled, and the Noldor’s trust in the Valar was shaken even further; but Fëanáro was not held guiltless for disturbing the peace, and in penance for his deeds he was exiled to the fortress of Formenos in the north for twelve years, or until he would reconcile with Ñolofinwë.           Thus Fëanáro went into banishment, accompanied by each of his seven sons who loved and honored their father, and also by Finwë, who now more than ever felt the need to prove his great love for his eldest son. Thus Tirion was left to be ruled by Ñolofinwë, even as Fëanáro had feared; and Nerdanel also remained, dwelling with Indis her law-mother, for she refused to be party to his rebellion and had long grown weary of his arrogance. In Formenos, Fëanáro dwelt in bitterness, and when Melkor approached him speaking words of an alliance against the Valar, he rejected him utterly, trusting him even less than his kindred. Thus scorned, Melkor’s hatred of Fëanáro warped into a bitter, personal vendetta, and he schemed to bring ruin upon the elf who dared rebuke him.           After a time, the Valar called Fëanáro to reconcile with his half-brother at a festival upon Taniquetil, he alone attended of his household, and with reluctance he accepted Ñolofinwë’s offer of brotherhood. But in that very moment, Aman was plunged suddenly into Darkness, for with the aid of the monstrous creature Ungoliant, Melkor had destroyed the Two Trees. Amid the chaos, the Valar begged Fëanáro to break open the Silmarils that they might restore Light to the world, but he refused, for such a deed would destroy his spirit which he had bound up with his creations. But even darker tidings soon came: Nelyafinwë and his brothers arrived from Formenos, crying that Melkor had come and slain Finwë and stolen the Silmarils. At this Fëanáro rose, and before Manwë he cursed Melkor, and named him Moringotto, the Black Foe; and in his grief and rage he ran into the Darkness wailing in pure agony, for he had loved his father even more than the Silmarils themselves, and now he was robbed of both his parents.           When Fëanáro at last emerged, he was changed: his pride and suspicion had transformed into a wild madness that gripped him and all to whom he spoke, and rallying the Noldor around him he declared his intention to forsake Aman and return to Endórë, chasing after Moringotto to avenge Finwë and reclaim the Silmarils. There was much disagreement among his people of whether to follow Fëanáro as their new King, and chief among the dissenters was Ñolofinwë, but in the end Fëanáro’s words were so powerful that the greater part of the Noldor were swayed, and Ñolofinwë had sworn to follow his brother and would not go back on his vow.           Then Fëanáro swore a terrible Oath. His seven sons leapt straightway to his side and took the selfsame vow together, and red as blood shone their drawn swords in the glare of the torches. They swore an Oath which none shall break, and none should take, by the name even of Ilúvatar, calling the Everlasting Dark upon them if they kept it not; and Manwë they named in witness, and Varda, and the hallowed mountain of Taniquetil, vowing to pursue with vengeance and hatred to the ends of the World Vala, Demon, Elf or Man as yet unborn, or any creature, great or small, good or evil, that time should bring forth unto the end of days, whoso should hold or take or keep a Silmaril from their possession.           And waiting no longer, Fëanáro leapt forth and led his people from their homes in Tirion, hastening to the eastern shores of Aman and the port of Alqualondë where the Teleri dwelt. There he demanded the use of their precious swan-ships, and was denied; and when he could see no other option, he resolved to take them by force. Yet the Teleri resisted, and swords were drawn, and soon blood was shed upon the piers and the sands, and elf slew elf for the first time, a grievous crime that would not be forgotten. At last the Noldor prevailed, for when Fëanáro and his sons and their followers seemed about to fall, the second host of Ñolofinwë arrived, and led by Findekáno who ever rushed after Nelyafinwë his friend, the battle was joined with fresh warriors, and the Teleri were defeated.           Fëanáro took the swan-ships he had killed to steal, and with his people sailed north up the coast of Araman to find the best place to cross the Sundering Seas. But the wrath of Uinen was terrible at the slaughter of her beloved people, and many ships were drowned in her storms, though none of Fëanáro’s household were lost. Then Mandos himself descended upon the assembled host of the Noldor and declared a grievous Doom upon them, that all their deeds would turn to evil, and their great suffering would go unheard by the Valar. Now Arafinwë, who was most reluctant to follow his half-brother, turned back and repented, and with him went some of their people on the sorrowful trek back to Valinor, but the greater part of the Noldor remained, and Ñolofinwë yet followed in Fëanáro’s train.           But despite his loyalty, Fëanáro did not trust Ñolofinwë, and growing ever more paranoid he gathered his most faithful followers and boarded the swan-ships in secret. He and his sons set sail for Endórë, and upon their arrival, Nelyafinwë turned to his father and asked if Findekáno his friend would arrive next when they sent the ships back. But Fëanáro laughed, and ordered the ships to be burnt, for he had no intention of bringing Ñolofinwë or his kin with him any further, and though all his followers cast torches upon the beautiful swan-ships of the Teleri, Nelyafinwë alone stood aside. Thus it was that he was the first to notice the distress of his brother Pityafinwë, who could not find his twin—and thus it was that they discovered that Telufinwë Umbarto, the youngest of Fëanáro’s sons, had not disembarked onto land, for he wished secretly to return home to his mother.           Frantically, Pityafinwë and Nelyafinwë swam to the burning boat where Telufinwë was trapped, and dragged him screaming from the wreck. Seeing the horror his deeds had wrought, and the near-murder of his own son, Fëanáro was briefly shocked out of his madness enough to see to it that Telufinwë was healed and a camp was established on the shores of a great lake. But soon they faced more danger, for Moringotto’s army of orcish slaves now roamed the land attacking any elves they came across, and Fëanáro led his followers against them in a resounding victory.           Overambitious and mad with a thirst for vengeance, Fëanáro refused the advice of Nelyafinwë to proceed with caution and instead marched for Moringotto’s dark fortress, purposing to slay him and seize the Silmarils, for his Oath burned within him. But Moringotto loosed great fire-monsters against him, and these corrupted Maiar, the Balrogs, overwhelmed Fëanáro’s host, slaughtering them all and wrapping their fiery whips around their leader. Long did Fëanáro resist them, laughing madly all the while, but at last he was smitten to the ground by Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, and would have died had not his sons come upon him suddenly to save him.           His sons bore him up and retreated, but his wounds were mortal, and even as they reached the shadow of the mountains, he bade them halt. Even Umbarto, scarred and burnt from his father’s deeds, hobbled to meet his brothers as Fëanáro cursed Moringotto and demanded his sons renew their Oath. Into Nelyafinwë’s hands he pressed a green stone he had made long ago in Valinor, passing the burden of kingship onto him the eldest of his sons, and then at last he perished, the fire of his spirit so hot that his hröa burned to ash as his fëa fled to Mandos.           There in the Halls of Awaiting he was judged, and Námo found his spirit ravaged, and so confined him to Mandos forever, or until the world was remade: and there he remains, though his legacy shaped the fate of Arda, and the shadow of his dreadful Oath would haunt his sons until they met their awful Dooms.