“Come. I want to show you something.”

Erestor gave his friend the sternest look he could muster, and yawned. “Telperion is fully awake – the time I most like to be asleep,” he answered in a warning voice.

Feanor crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. “Are you coming or not?”

A short staring match ensued, until Erestor shook his head and replied, “Fine. This had better be good.”

The pair walked in comfortable silence from the cottage that Erestor lived in, through the fields he tended, and beside a narrow river that flowed near to the woods. They arrived at Feanor’s estate, but Erestor was led beyond it, through a gated fence and to the forge where a faint wisp of smoke thinly escaped through the apex.

Feanor entered with all the giddiness of a schoolboy; Erestor rubbed the sleep from his eyes again and blinked to focus on the newest toy his friend had created. After a few moments, he scratched his left temple with the opposite hand. “Ornate fireplace poker?”

“No. Seriously – how is it you are a scholar?” Feanor missed the roll of Erestor’s eyes as he held up his latest creation. “This is a sword.”

“Oh. Oh! Such as Masters Tulkas and Orome have,” realized Erestor. “Smaller, of course.”

“Not that much smaller,” corrected Feanor hastily. Erestor shrugged. “What?”

“Well, no offense, but I hardly see the need for it. Looks nice though. Decorative. Do you think your wife will let you hang it on the wall in the sitting room?” wondered Erestor.

“This shall hang on no wall,” proclaimed Feanor. “It shall hang from my belt!”

Erestor sat down on one of the worn wooden benches, still not sure that this merited his being woken up for. “Why?”

“Why?” Feanor hushed his voice. “Is it not obvious? If the Valar were ever to wish to put us in our place, we would lose. Do you know why?”

“Because they are more powerful?”

“Yes... and why are they more powerful?”

“...because they just are?”

Feanor lowered the sword and rested it in his hands. “Because they have these. But there are more of us than there are of them, and if it came to it, we should be prepared.”

“Oh. For defense, then?” Erestor asked.

“Of course,” answered Feanor.

“That seems reasonable. Looks like it should be easy – I mean, what is it? Just a pointy piece of metal. You should be able to cut those out easily enough.”

Feanor chuckled. “Easy? No, not as easy as you think, at least not for most. It is not the metal or the bearer that make the blade strong, but the fire within – but if anyone knows about that, it is I.”