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"You're welcome. Enjoy not dangling from a cliff, I know it's one of my own very favorite activities is 'not dangling from a cliff'."

She turns him invisible; she turns into a bird. She overflies the area, looking for anyone who might imminently bother him.
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The plains are not the orcs' favorite place to hide. They look deserted.

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"Seems clear," she illusions near where she left him. "Bye."

And she flies to Fëanor's to identify her... rescuees.
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The festival is ongoing when she arrives. Macalaurë is singing. The song seems to intertwine melodies in two languages, and its accompanying osanwë-illusions are of two different worlds: glowing, glimmering Valinor, joyous Quendi racing through wide white streets, and a sparkling, starlit treetop people, leaping from branch to branch. He has an astonishing voice; it carries. The Quendi are dancing.

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Oh right. She was gone all day and they're having a party.

Maybe this isn't the best time? This is probably not the best time. And she was not invited to the party.

She goes to the Nolofinwëans; maybe they will know who she got.
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They are not having a party. They're still hiking, even though it's now well into the night.

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She finds Findekáno and goes to ground by him.

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"Hey," he says. "We decided to push through the night, there's apparently a nice valley on the other side of this pass, thirty or so more miles, where we can rest for a few days."

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"Good, good. Um. The smoke over Angband was gone so I overflew it and the prison security is not designed to stop me and I broke out two people and I have no idea who they were and they wouldn't tell me."

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He goes very, very pale.

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"One of them just ran off, I tried to osanwë where we were so he wouldn't get too lost but I'm not sure if it took, and I wasn't trying to take anyone yet again prisoner so I let him go; and the other one was, well, behaving really sensibly for somebody who considered me a malicious hallucination but it didn't make it easy to reunite him with whoever he belongs to."

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"Behaving really sensibly for somebody who considered you a malicious hallucination?"

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"...Yes? The Enemy has mind control powers and he thought I was more of the same, if rather novel. He thought I was trying to bring him to other Quendi to see how he reacted to meeting his loved ones and only stopped threatening suicide when I left him in the middle of nowhere by himself to be extremely uniformative to the hypothetical orchestrator of a malicious hallucination. But at least he isn't dangling from a cliff anymore. I think it's an improvement but I'm not sure whether to just... leave him there."

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"And more importantly," Findekáno says, "Loki, who has loved ones who the Enemy would go to those lengths to get information about?"

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"Potentially many people, there are more than a handful of populations of Quendi on the continent and I don't know what all of them have been up to, but, yes, I was hoping I could show you the faces and get an identification."

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"Show me."

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She shows him.

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"Where is he?"

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"If you go and find him he will think you are also a malicious hallucination - osanwë and all, apparently - and will find something to jump off of. What are you going to do?"

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"I will think of somethingwhereishe?"

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Is anybody in earshot volunteering to restrain Findekáno...? No?

"I turned him invisible so he could avoid random passersby, but he's -" Here.
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"Thank you." He doesn't move.

"For more than just showing me that, obviously."
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"You're welcome. How are you going to convince him you're not just more of the mind control? It's supposed to be complete sensory override, and the orcs say the Enemy reads minds, too, there's not necessarily anything you can do, nothing that could only possibly be you."

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"I realize that. It is in fact much worse than you seem to think. I am still going to think of something."

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"How would it be worse?"
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