Finwë realized he shouldn't have been surprised when little Fëanor was sent home early from his lessons, accompanied by his stern-faced tutor... who was now declaring he was Fëanor's former tutor. Finwë lost count of how many this had been now. Ten? Eleven? Only Eru knew, at this point.
It was never that Fëanor did anything particularly wrong, it was that his mind didn't work like other children's and he tended to say the wrong thing.
"Tell your father what you asked me," the tutor snapped.
"I don't wanna," Fëanor said, staring at his tiny shoes.
"Tell him, so I can take my leave in peace."
"Tell me, Fëanáro." Finwë folded his arms and tapped his foot, giving his eldest the "I'm waiting" look.
"Oh, all right." Fëanor sighed. "Well, maybe you can answer this for me, anyway..."
Finwë braced himself, waiting.
Fëanor looked into his father's eyes and asked, "Why doesn't Manwë have a pee-pee?"
_
Many years later, Fëanor - long since grown - was on his way out of the forge and into the manse, and his two eldest sons barreled into him. He tousled Maedhros's hair and put an arm around Maglor, who hugged his leg, and then Maglor tugged on the hem of his tunic, making Fëanor stop in his tracks. Fëanor got down on his knees to be eye level with his son.
"What is it?"
"Ada, I have a question and I didn't wanna ask you because it's kind of weird but Nelyafinwë says I should ask and you won't get mad."
Fëanor patted Maglor's shoulder. "Your brother is right, Kanafinwë. I would never punish you for simply asking a question." Unlike my father.
Maglor nodded. Then he cleared his throat - so dramatic even at such a young age - and asked, "Ada, how come Manwë doesn't have a pee-pee?"
Fëanor's laughter rang out, delighted. Great minds.
"Why are you laughing?" Maglor scowled, looking as fearsome as any small child could. "Are you laughing at me?"
"I'm not laughing at you, Kanafinwë. I'm laughing because I asked the same exact question at your age and it's how I got into studying science..." Fëanor looked up into the sky. "It seems to be an eternal mystery."
_
"Are you coming to bed, Fëanáro?"
Nerdanel was in a gauzy, translucent nightgown - Fëanor looked up from his books for a moment and bit back a moan at the sight of her. Such a distraction, but his thirst for knowledge burned, these questions wouldn't leave him alone...
"In a few minutes, dearest." Fëanor rubbed his chin.
Nerdanel put a hand on her hip and sighed. "I don't know why you're more interested in a Vala's genitals than that of your wife."
Fëanor leaned back in his chair, blinking, realizing he'd been neglectful, feeling a pang of guilt. "Oh." He facepalmed. "Oh."
Nerdanel folded her arms.
"Well then." Fëanor got up and cleared his throat. "Maybe studying yours might... shed some insight."
"Maybe." The nightgown dropped to the floor.
"I might have to study for several hours." Fëanor gave her a wicked grin. "Days, even."
"I'd be happy to assist you in your research." Nerdanel took his hand and led him to the bed.
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