The orc listens. Its companions are presumably also listening, but it can't speak to them or hear them. Loki is very strange. Loki does not have to hate them or kill them and doesn't want to and is probably going to do it anyway and the whole thing is very strange.

The guards hurriedly call over a man she doesn't recognize, who is lounging with his giant dog in the sun. "He's in the greenhouses, they're trying to do something with the humidity," he says. "You're speaks-Asgardian, right?"

"...My name is Loki, but yes, my ability to speak Asgardian is also probably a unique signifier."

"Speaks Asgardian, can turn invisible, can fly but doesn't seem to work for Manwë, can do illusions, can do illusions with accents, my father assigned you quite a lot of unique signifiers before he got down to 'has healing magic that saved my life.' Tyelcormo, incidentally. The greenhouses are on the other side of camp."

"Ah, you're the one with the mutual desire to brawl with Irissë. Thank you for the directions," says Loki. "Incidentally - these birds are presently under my protection, and completely harmless at this moment, and I would appreciate it very much if no one made me drop them in order to look out for their continuing to have all their feathers; but if they were not birds you would certainly not invite them in. Should I explain further before I bring them in or does my guarantee suffice?"

Loki assesses the dog for likelihood-of-biting-her-swifts. "What purpose does this serve...?"

"He'll sniff them, tell me what he thinks. He's a Maia of Oromë in the form of a dog, he has good instincts. They're tied up, he's not going to kill them."

"I have no idea how having been turned into birds will affect their smell," she remarks. "...Where I am from it is uncustomary to communicate in that much detail with dogs, but then again we are not telepathic."

"I can speak with animals. Father says it's clearly a linguistic talent that anyone would have if they tried, or if not they'd fail only because they lack the relevant sensory acuity. Oromë says it's a blessing from Eru. It's sort of like osanwë, only requires much more mental...the ability to put yourself in something's head, know the thoughts that will resonate with it and use those ones. I can talk to your swifts, too, but they're scared and panicked and I don't know them, it'd take a little while."

"I can talk to my swifts. Their minds are unchanged and their ears work."

"They speak Quenya?"

"I have no idea if they do or not, it didn't come up, but I'm not speaking Quenya."

"...right, the translation magic. That was also among your unique signifiers. It works on animals? Or are these my cousins in disguise?"

"Neither. Do you require the full explanation before I bring them in?"

"You can explain or let Huan check them, but I'm not taking them to my father without something."

"Huan may smell them provided he understands as well as you that they are not to be assaulted while helpless."

"I am willing to have the conversation I wish to have outside of the camp if that is preferable, but they will remain birds until I have changed them back and cannot even fly away."

"Nah, come on in, there's nothing that you couldn't kill that you plus five orcs could kill. Mind, if you want to explain on our way over to the greenhouses, I wouldn't be disappointed."

In she steps. "It was suggested that they were made from Elves originally. I wondered if a healing spell might turn them back. It doesn't. But - I'm not an Elf and therefore not inherently abominable to orcs, and confronted with a small group of orcs I did not need to kill them to assure my own safety. So I talked to the one I left conscious. This one," she indicates the one, "and I had quite a long conversation and I learned many heartbreaking orc facts and we are jointly out of ideas for ways orcs can be safely allowed to live. But I think very highly of Fëanor's intellect, and too suspect him of expertise on the local phenomenon of oath-making, and thought he might be able to think of something."

"Kill them, send their souls to the Halls of Mandos, eventually overthrow Mandos and assume divine power, build them their own continent? That's - what I've been telling myself I'll do, every time I have to kill one."

"Well, that sounds like an excellent but time-consuming plan, and I am not patient by nature. ...You could consider it a mercy the next time you have to kill one, especially if there is no solution found today. Apart from these five they are - all in constant pain."

"Well, yeah, we figured. An Elven soul doesn't take that form otherwise. Did you think we just - decided to start killing them, because fuck it, they started it? In my grandparents' day they knew these were their friends, family, neighbors..."