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.
No I am not. I look like it. But I don't even look like this, this is a seeming Odin placed on me; under it I'm blue and I have red eyes and I may or may not have ice magic that I can't get to work and I'm probably supposed to be twice this tall but that didn't come off even in the presence of a Balrog. My species is from a place more like the Ice the newcomers crossed than the caves where the Dwarves live, let alone a forest. Even Asgard, which is more like places that would be familiar and comfortable to Quendi, none of the history comes to a point with yours. We did not branch off from any of Eru's creations, and your mother is confident that you would have to traverse more than just space to get to where I grew up, you'd have to go to a completely other reality. The Dwarves do not look much like you and they have different customs and interests but they are more kin than I am. If the factor is kin, and not personhood, not common goals, then I will stop being close enough to kin the moment someone wants me dead and cannot consider me kin at the same time.
No, my heritage didn't come up with him at all except for his interest in my possession of free will. Since I found out I was blue after I killed his Balrog he probably doesn't even know I'm a kidnapped frost giant.
No, that didn't come up either. I'm not strongly paranoid about this, but I do not think I can rely on a taboo with the word 'kin' in it.
I'm not thrilled about the prospect either. It's nice to have somewhere safe to go. It's not safe if I can't leave.
You don't need to do that, and it's not an attack I'm worried about so much as strategic protective custody without my cooperation.
I don't think they can keep me, but if I have to actually escape, I can't very well come back.
It's possible. I have considered parking here for extended periods of time for similar reasons. But it would be a terrible pity if someone decided that was not my decision to make and in so doing deprived me of my only refuge; it would not have the desired effect.
I'm not satisfied by the lack of solution to the - abandonment of the Men. They are three weeks old. He's setting the tone for their entire civilization, their other neighbors have no interest in presenting an alternative example, these helpless people have been deposited in hostile terrain without anything they'd need to fight off werewolves or see through misinformation, your mother is the only non-evil Power I'm aware of who shows up to work on this continent and she's heavily invested here not there - and they deserve better, and he's not going to get any easier to pry loose.
I may yet get it. Might require further proximity to Balrogs. Are Balrogs in limited supply? Can I go pick a fight with those somehow, work off some frustration?