Welcome to Gaia! ::

Long, long ago in the Uttermost West, there was a time of light. The great bells of Valmar rang from the highest peaks of the Pelóri to the dips and dunes of the fresh seaside in Eldamar. The greatest of the Elves tread the same golden streets as the Valar themselves, and elf children played on the crystal stairs of Tirion. The gleam of jewels adorned every brow, except for young maids that preferred the natural beauty of flowers, and these they wove into their hair singly or in garlands. And always there was something new to see, for the elves loved nothing more than broadening their skill and knowledge in whichever that they did.

And the House of Finwë, chieftains of the Noldor all, was noble and whole.

(Rules:
Stay in character unless in brackets, strikeout or gray.
This is -only- RP during the Years of the Trees. That is the destruction of Almaren to just before the Darkening of Valinor. So, Morgoth has not yet stolen the Silmarils and the Two Trees are as lively as ever.
If a character isn't taken in the guild or isn't being played in this thread, you may play it. But you have to check first.

Characters currently being played:
Fëanor
Caranthir
Finwë
Indis
Celegorm

Other Notes:
>>The Caranthir-Fëanor-Finwë-Celegorm exchange (pages 1&2&3) is set in Feanor's private courtyard since swords are outlawed in Tirion)

(Yes. =D Welcome. Edit: how much younger is up to you. We don't have to be too strict in ages)

"Does my son think deep thoughts, sitting all alone?" came a voice from behind. It was none other than Fëanor, and judging from his tone and pace he was in a high mood today. It was unusual to see him out and about Tirion in the mid-morning, but then, he had an unusual errand. "Or are his eyes clouded with pride over a sword he cannot yet use? See, Caranthir." Fëanor's shadow fell across the young elf.

His tall frame leaned down and, nestled in his palm, something glittered. It was pure gold likened to a tiny bird in every detail, and it had bright red gems for eyes. "I made this, and it is for you. But you must earn it, like everything else in this world." Feanor withdrew the pretty trinket and, eyes intent and dark and fiercely proud (of Caranthir, though it would not do to tell him), tapped the hilt of his own long sword. "Come and try," he commanded.

Fëanor waited for the young elf to come to him; a satified smile passed over his lips. He had no more expectations than Caranthir that his son would come even close to beating him. However, it would please Fëanor to see just how much Caranthir had learned.

He drew his sword with experienced grace and held it at a low guard, and he began to match Caranthir's steps with the appropriate counter: equal and opposite. And he waited to see what his son would do.

If the High Prince's gaze was heavier and more intimidating than any Hammer of Judgement, then, well... Fëanor rarely noticed these things.

There was not even blade contact. Fëanor, who was mobile on the balls of his feet, stepped neatly back and avoided Caranthir's attack entirely. The smile was gone from his face now; his eyes were expectant, impatient. "The wolf does not eat if it's heart is not in it's paws," he said sharply.

Then, relenting just a little, he said: "Caution is wise, but an attack that is not carried through with confidence will not help you. Try again."

Loose dark hair flying, Fëanor skipped to the side. His slender sword shot up and near the hilt deflected Caranthir's blade. Filled with excitment now, he only saw the sheath just in time. Fëanor twisted away, and laughed.

"So you are my son," he said smiling. "I do not want to see you hide that energy ever again; if you commit yourself to something you must not ever shy away." Fëanor again held out the golden gift, and this time, he would let Caranthir take it.

Fëanor smiled again as Caranthir took the little bird. His own works often pleased him, but he liked even more when the efforts of his hands could please someone else. And his little (or not so little ;D) family, of course, was special to him.

He put a hand on Caranthir's shoulder for a brief moment of encouragement. "You may have other talents," he said, scooping up Caranthir's sharpening stone. "But do not be fooled. Perseverance is more valuable than talent by far."

((OMG RP! ... -sulks- I will be faster than you next time, double. >3 I swear it!

Hnn. Ehtelion wouldn't work here... and Findekano wouldn't fit in too well, either. -ponders this a while-))