"Reminds me almost of how pleased my sister was when I was finally able to start learning to fight with her."

"I will probably be slightly jealous, but please do tell me more."

"I was an intensely clumsy child. I could walk. Barely, if I was very careful and went very slowly and had a walking stick or touched the wall. I couldn't run, I couldn't even think about trying to do footwork with a sword in hand - they had me on archery, because I could pull a bow all right, but I was never going to be able to do it from a horse or on the move. They thought I grew out of it. I didn't. It's a spell, the first one I made, it lets me move perfectly. I pretended that it had turned out that, all along, all I needed was a good dance instructor; and Thor practically shouted down the palace for joy and crowded out half my tutors trying to teach me everything herself."

"I'm sorry. Sounds a little bit like being a Noldo who can't do creative work, and that's hell - was your sister a good teacher?"

"...Our styles are very different. But I did learn from her and she was very patient and encouraging."

She nods."Is she indignant about you saving your father, too?"

"She's... confused. And loath to contradict Odin on any matter. She doesn't hate me."

"Well. That's something." She cranes her neck to see farther ahead in the host. "I may go sit on Findekáno before he walks himself to death - did he sleep last night?"

"I doubt it."

"Yeah, gonna try to do something. Unless you needed anything else?"

Headshake.

She walks off in Findekáno's direction.

Loki takes flight, why not. Orcs? Environmental hazards? Tasty-looking ungulates?

There are orcs, a ways away through difficult terrain. Their presence probably explains the lack of ungulates.

How many orcs...?

Five are visible. There's the remains of a camp that suggests the area recently hosted more.

It has no idea what's going on; it thrashes uselessly.

Its shape doesn't change. Its expression does: it gasps sharply and goes limp; then it starts scratching at its own skin with an expression of utter befuddlement.

...She watches. Elves can reassert themselves over their bodies, can't they? If she waits...?

It stops scratching its skin and starts whimpering. Then it curls up in a ball.

"What's the matter?"

That gets its attention; it straightens out again, tries to stand up, fails, looks around wildly.

Okay, maybe that's a silly question to ask a prisoner. "Hello. I've tried something and would like to know what it did to you."