There's an amphitheater, a place where a hundred of the stone walkways twine around to create space for a hundred thousand people to sit in close proximity, and someone is giving a lecture or a demonstration at the base of it, the seats closest to him filled with eager, tiny, bearded Dwarf-children.
And they spiral down, and down, and down, past waterfalls and egg-sized gemstones left half in the rock and halls of crystal. Everything grows gradually more ornate and more perfectly maintained and the clang of hammers fades behind them. "People say," her guide says, "that we only have a council instead of a single King because there were nine winners of the competition to design the throne so we couldn't just select one person to sit it." And they push open the doors to reveal, indeed, nine thrones so elaborate it would be hard to choose between them, and nine squat bearded people sitting them.
My first reason would probably sound like 'even Artanis does not deserve to be trapped with the Valar indefinitely'.
Those people do not deserve to be trapped in the Halls of Mandos indefinitely, either. No one is getting what they deserve, and defeating the Enemy as fast as possible has to come before fixing that.
Also, who do you think is likeliest to devise a way to get people out of Mandos, and how likely to happen do you think it is if he's dead? Well, now that you're here might happen anyway, but we couldn't have predicted that.
Brithombar remembers you fondly if unpronounceably. Believe me, I do appreciate - very thoroughly - that getting rid of the Enemy is probably not going to come down to having a specific quantity of swords on hand.
Not when half of them are pointed at each other. If they'd stayed home, and you'd come and talked with us and somehow found out about it and pressed me on whether it was the right thing to do, I'd have said 'I think so'. Wouldn't have known for sure until we win or lose, and maybe not even until we'd made it possible for anyone to leave Valinor, but I'd have said 'I think so'.
Well, that's good, because she wants to take some of hers off. "Where should I bring my damaged gear to see if it can be fixed here?"
"...What's not lethal?" Loki asks, taking off a bit of it that got too close to one of the lash things.
"Oh right, that. I will have to get into different notetaking habits." She marks down the last bit of her conversation with Tyelcormo and puts it in a new section of notebook.
"You're sure you can do that without - melting it in some way that will interfere with its various properties I don't understand?" she asks.
"At some point I need to interrogate somebody about how local, non-Maia non-Vala magic works. Maybe I can do something ludicrously hacky with it. All right, may as well take them now. Do you happen to have spares lying around to cover the same areas I could borrow?"