"Looks like you and apparently became powerful enough to fight the Valar and then decided not to. So at least some common personality."

"Yes, there is definitely that."

"Planning to ask her how she did it?"

"If I get to meet her, yes. She's not reachable right now; I'd give them the earwire to call her but it could be on purpose."

"She might be tired of Fëanáro's double, he seems a bit tiring."

"That is possible but probably not the whole reason?"

"How's our Fëanáro doing?"

"He has learned a lot of engineering and seems all set to learn some more."

Sigh. "And not any mass murder, I hope."

"Has not been part of the curriculum."

"Have fun."

"I will. We're going to meet his children, he has seven. Don't know yet who their mom wound up being."

"... Good for him. I think. Have a lovely time."

"I'll call again if we're not going to be back in a day or so."

"Okay."

Both Fëanáros are watching her impatiently 

End of call. "All done."

"Great, I can get him to a library," says the older Fëanáro, "and you can come see our new world. It's beautiful."

"He might want to steal your library."

"I can get you a copy of all the books," he says, "galactics have very fast book copying."

"I wouldn't steal your books," Fëanáro says.

"You should, if I wouldn't give them to you!"

Bella giggles.

The city is astonishingly pretty, and bigger than Tirion - "we had three hundred Years for the population to grow," Fëanáro says, and at its center is a university rather than a palace.

"Is father the King?"

"Technically," he says dismissively. "Our son is in charge."

Huh.

"Why?"

"I don't really know," he says, "he likes it and it makes him happy. And he's good at it, not that that's hard."

...really now.

"Are our kids smart?"

"They are! Smart and ambitious and brave."

"All of them?"

"Every one."