#poor nerdanel

I’m really enjoying drawing all the Finwëans™️

Fëanor flares up very quickly, and he gets extremely defensive if he feels he’s being personally attacked (note that it really doesn’t take much for him to feel that way). He’ll first go on a very loud and lengthy rant about how the other person is a fucking moron and probably point out many of their own personal flaws, and if no one appears to diffuse the situation then fists are extremely likely to fly.

Seeing her there painted Macalaure’s vision red. How dare she come to talk to them after she stayed behind. She abandoned their father and them all in that one move and Macalaure was unable to forgive her for that. There was little doubt that his mother expected to find someone by now, but everyone had been told to prepare for their journey. There was no way he would allow her to go talk to Feanor about their departure because it would happen anyway, and his father needed all of his attention on what was to come.

Macalaure walked up behind her and clamped his hand tightly over her mouth to keep her quiet. Just before she began to struggle he spoke softly, yet his tone was light. “Hello Mother. I didn’t expect to see you away from your workshop.”

Turning her slightly Macalaure pressed her up against one of her statues, finding the irony of what he was about to do to her amusing. As silently as he could he slipped one of his daggers out of it’s sheath as he continued speaking. “If you were planning on talking to father after you abandoned him to his exile you can forget about it because I am not going to let you.”

Seeing the look in her eyes that indicated her temper was rising he gently pressed a kiss to her cheek, then pressed his dagger against her throat. He slipped it as deeply as he could and stepped back. As he pulled the blade free he smiled faintly. Yes, it was beautiful irony making the artist of statues as real as living things as lifeless as her work up against her work.

He heard his name being called by one of his brothers and quickly cleaned his blade on her apron before going to his brother. At the edge of the garden he paused and taking one last glance at her he bowed his head in brief regret because however angry he was at her actions she was still his mother.