The directions he gets are a good start but it's the sound that eventually tells Fëanor where to look. It's a far cry from the music of the Noldorin forges of his past but still a melody his heart recognizes in an instant. And it wakes the fire within him that he thought was long gone. That all that was left were cinders. Not anymore. For now it burns brighter with every sound of the hammer striking metal.
He approaches the man working by the fire.

"Welcome! I'm sorry for the interruption but may I borrow your forge for an hour?"

If the question was not strange enough the blacksmith will certainly notice that the man asking it is faintly glowing.