lsusanna replied to your post “I don't know where this is going but imagine feanor's reaction to...”
but consider. the one where feanor lives. "this isn't a phase, dad!" maedhros, yelling from across the dinner table. the steak on his plate is still actively bleeding. (what is the steak /of/?? no one is sure. the cook no longer speaks.)
“We need to talk about your diet.”
Maedhros licked blood from his fingers with neat, catlike flicks of his tongue. A tongue which had not, Fëanor was certain, been quite so long before. “Oh?”
“It’s unhealthy - vitamin deficiencies and tape worms-”
“I'm not likely to succumb to malnutrition now,” Maedhros interrupted.
Fëanor had to concede that point. “It’s frightening the servants.”
“Fair enough.” His son pushed back his chair. “I’ll be sure to eat in private in future.”
That was not the outcome Fëanor had sought but what he really wanted - his son whole and unspoilt - was gone beyond his reach. “Where did you get...the meat?” He was not sure he wanted to know but no one could ever accuse him of incuriosity.
Maedhros shrugged, looking down at the blood pooled upon his plate. He would hopefully restrain himself from lapping at it this time. “A horse. I found it wandering. Marked with your brother’s brand.”
Perhaps, Fëanor decided, he had been overhasty in his judgement. “Excellent foraging skills. Perhaps, tomorrow, I might join you?”
His son gave him a bright smile and Fëanor conceded that his fangs, though terrifying, were still very white. “I look forwards to it. I’ll see yours is cooked well done.”