He goes and finds Maitimo and gets homebuilding advice.

And the sisters catch up. Many things are said that would horrify the majority of elves who could theoretically overhear if there weren't better soundproofing in place.

He'll wait for them to find him, it's been a week and Imliss must not really know anyone else well yet.

Well, there's Maitimo, and the engineers, but yeah, they'll eventually come find him.

"Hey! All good? Idaia, did you show her what we've got so far for the house?"

"You two have good taste."

"Thanks. You gonna keep living in the palace?"

"I don't think I really need a house."

"Suppose people haven't been throwing piles of stuff at you."

"They have not. I didn't recently marry a prince."

"I cannot think of any to recommend you! Alright, stay here, it's certainly pretty enough. It's not too long a walk."

"I have no particular desire to marry a prince in the future. Also, speaking of walks, I am legitimately impressed by how much of your dad's adorableness in response to language learning carries through in writing."

"He is very himself in every possible medium. He says the Silmarils have part of his soul in them but I don't know if he means anything magical by that at all, it might just be that his work always does."

"Silmarils?"

"Recent project of his. They're exceptionally pretty."

"Maitimo mentioned them, apparently they're part of the whole 'leaving Valinor' thing."

"Outer Lands are dark. Silmarils would mean we could grow crops, and wouldn't get weaker over time like we otherwise will outside Valinor."

"Get weaker over time?"

"Really it's that Valinor makes us stronger, swifter in body and mind, more in possession of ourselves, more capable. Makes it less tempting to leave even if we're sick of the place."

"But these Silmarils fix that?"

"Yep! We can build an independent Noldorin kingdom outside Valinor."

"Awesome. And then we will have three houses, I suppose, or just give the first two to someone else or something."

"And the kids won't have to care what the Valar say about anything."

"Perfect," she says, beaming and throwing her arms around his neck.

Kisses.

Shall we go look for an architect?