Fingon watches from the sidelines as Maglor practices, getting ever uneasier as his cousin improves.

His isn't the concern that Maglor probably thinks it is- if he was uncomfortable with a kinslayer holding naked steel, after all, he should have turned in his own blade and gone to study something harmless himself.

But it's hard not to notice that even as his atrophied skills sharpen rapidly, Maglor still looks quietly unhappy. And Fingon's not sure that that mood is going away.

"Are you sure you don't want a break, cousin?"