A pause; then the Elf speaks again. "She says 'It is. You are very powerful, child; this defense has held against abominations from beyond the void, ones whose darkness even the Valar struggled to dispel; my power is rooted in the land and amplified by the centuries of work I have placed in it.'"

"I've never encountered a need to concentrate on an illusion I'd placed before at all," says Loki, permitting the darkness to completely recede. "If the Enemy has pushback like that arranged over his fortress I will not be able to keep it silent as effortlessly as I'd envisioned. I was able to turn some of his smoke invisible, and myself both that and inaudible, when I attempted reconnaissance; but I don't know if that was a matter of scale or my being unexpected."

"It would astonish me if he had no defenses, once he noticed you. It may still be a wise use of your power; the Enemy, too, has limited reserves of attention. I would speak with your further." The guard says this last thing very very hesitantly. "Come in, child."

"I cannot leave my free will at the border," Loki says. "Are you sure?"

The forest laughs. The trees wave gently and the sound could have been naturally produced by a wind rustling their branches, but it sounds like laughter and is accompanied by an osanwë-projection of delighted amusement.

"Should I understand that to be a yes?"

"Yes. You speak of your will with pride; the peculiar freedom of Men was said to be a gift from Eru, but I have never met one who regarded it as such. Come in, and take with you all the gifts Ilúvatar gave you."

"I do not think Eru has given me anything," Loki says. "The other realms are differently made. But I am pleased to receive the invitation regardless." She stands; her letters wink out.

The Elf starts walking into the forest. "You may follow me," he says. "Stay within my sight, or you may lose your way entirely."

She nods, and follows closely lest he vanish behind a tree.

There are actually quite a few variants on the enchanted forest look, though the silvery light pervades all of it. There are rivers in places the geography would not naturally produce rivers, bubbling with fresh and clear-looking water, the colorful stones on the river floor clearly visible. There are valleys full of yellow flowers, with the trees curving in overhead to still obscure the sky. There are gorges with fallen trees lying across them for makeshift bridges; there are shimmering pools where deer and hummingbirds drink.

"This place is beautiful."

This earns her the first smile from the guide-Elf. "Thank you. We take great joy in it."

Walk, walk, admire, admire.

"It's gorgeous."

"I would be interested to hear that history, if time allows. I have had pieces only from the Nolofinwëans and Fëanorians."

"Sorry, the who?"

"Groups of Elves west of here - although for orc-rephilosophizing reasons they're going to have to stop calling themselves that; the Fëanorians went with 'Quendi' and the Nolofinwëans I haven't caught up on the situation yet but may follow suit."

"The new arrivals from Aman?"

"I'm not familiar with the name."

"Yes, they are the more and less new arrivals from there. This is the pleasantest basement I have been in."

"The Enemy can force us underground, but gains rather little from it." He turns another corridor into the largest room yet, easily the size of a stadium; trees - real or stone - grow up all around it and wind into hypnotic patterns in their upper branches, a waterfall makes the back wall into silvery glass, and the floor resembles a pristine field of delicate grass, despite the hundreds of people (and numerous small children) currently walking through it. Two people sit in elaborate state at the opposite end.