Awwww. 

He tosses her a pen. "Want to turn this grey for me in exchange for a week with your sister?"

"Absolutely." Grey!

So she's out of her circle, though both of them are leashed to twenty-five meters of him. They are trying to technically not break any laws on their way out of Valinor and that is one. 

He writes his father. "I have a fleet, your grace." 

The sisters are unlikely to notice this in the immediate future, occupied as they are by wingfully hugging and chattering at each other in multiple languages he doesn't speak.

After a little while he will have to interrupt their happy reunion. "I'd like to return to our capital to coordinate the departure, and you're unfortunately going to have to come along, unless you want to go home."

"...Why?"

"Twenty-five meters of me. It's the law. Sorry."

"Why is that the law?"

"So it is less plausible you'd get up to bad behavior without me noticing, and if the Valar are really angry they can always dismiss you by vaporizing everything within thirty meters of you?"

"Sheesh. Anyway, fine, we'll come."

They get into a non-lightleaping shuttle and he sets its course for Tirion. 

"So. While we're waiting, what's up with--all of the everything? Sorry, not very helpful--um, you appear to be ruled by daeva, that sounds like it must have an unpleasant backstory. What kinds are they?"

"There's fourteen. Manwe's in charge, he's an angel. Any unpleasantness was long before my time. The planet of origin of my people, Endore, was badly scarred in a war between them, and when the war was settled the Valar offered us the chance to come live on a planet of their making. Post-scarcity and completely safe and they'd do resurrections, it was a very appealing offer. Many of us took them up on it. We have lived in Valinor for the past - we're not going to have years of the same length, but every universe we've summoned from so far is the same age, 1.3 billion of our Years, do you happen to know how old yours is?"

"Between twelve and fourteen billion."

"Then our Years are approximately ten of yours. We've lived in Valinor for the past three hundred fifty of our years."

"...Unless I'm misinterpreting things, are you about to go to war against a daeva."

"Yup."

"Why would that strike you as a good idea?"

"Endore has a population of around ten billion. He could, obviously, just kill them all, and he hasn't, so that's something, but he's killing them by the hundreds of thousands and we can't just sit here waiting for the Valar to figure out the best way to get rid of the black hole and put the Suns back."

"Then why aren't you sending covert assassination missions to various interstellar locations that could conceivably contain his catatonic summoner?"

"Do you know how many stars there are in a galaxy? And it is not remotely guaranteed that he put it in this galaxy!"

"I'm not saying it would be likely to work, but if you're assigning yourself an impossible mission for the sake of your principles why not pick one that's theoretically capable of succeeding?"

"I take it with your home universe's tech level this would be laughable? It's - likely to be ugly, to be sure, and no one would bet on us, but it's not impossible. It's certainly not impossible that we can be annoying enough to evacuate most of the people who aren't backed up before he feeds the planet to a black hole."

"Evacuating is possible," she acknowledges. "But daeva are categorically indestructible. Getting black hole'd is an annoyance."

"We have immaterial force fields that you can only handle by destroying the generator, and it is at least in principle possible to have them with the generator outside your range."