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.
"Hadn't been informed. Look, I don't really want to have a social conversation, I just want to learn some things and expect them to be facts. I can freeze you again if you don't like this plan."
"I am a Maia. Sometimes my interests align with Melkor's and insofar as they do I do him favors. This favor was to supervise diplomatic contact between a hundred orc civilians and the madwoman of the East, a title you wholly deserve; this form isn't my preferred one and you won't inconvenience me much by ripping it up, but if you find it cathartic you can do that."
"If you don't like the song and you aren't going to produce any oaths that seems like the least timewasting option, honestly."
"Well, that sounds like a recipe that has us hanging out in this lake for hours dubiously productively," says Loki. She lifts a hand.
"That would make an interesting tactical change," remarks Loki dryly, and she blasts and flies away.
"I found," she says, "the person who was reading the orcs' minds and could have updated their instructions. I don't know her range, I don't think I managed to kill her, and while these orcs are probably perfectly nice people, I cannot make them safe neighbors, and if they are sent home they'll be the Enemy's soldiers. The babies don't have that problem. Please take the babies somewhere they don't have to watch."
"I know it's not fair," Loki says. "If I could make them like you, and make it so they could choose what to do, I would do it. That's what I tried last time there were orcs here, I checked to see if they could turn into werewolves and get free will that way. Without it their innocence is not theirs to keep, they can be turned in the Enemy's hand at any moment. It is not fair. I would never have made a species that way, I would never abuse this trait that way if I were bringing up a child of a species with this problem, but they are here now, not when I could have saved them. There's a colony of orcs, southwest of here, who I caught before the Enemy changed how he did things, and I got them out from under their oath. These ones, I can't do that."
"It's just," the same person says even more hesitantly, "we haven't seen the Enemy. Maybe he's so bad that killing lots of innocent people to stop him is right. But if he is - what if killing all of us somehow stops him?"
"I've seen Thauron. So have the earlier werewolves, although he was putting on a show for them. I've seen his victims, not just the orcs but Elves he's taken. I'll tell you horror stories, so will the Elves, if that will help.
"You have free will. You can never be made as indelibly dangerous as these orcs are. You would have to make choices to get there, choices they don't have. The reason I'm here is so that you can have your first while existing as a species without Thauron whispering in your ears; but even if I weren't here and all you knew was what he told you, there would always be the possibility that you could change your minds later. I think the orcs would if I knew a way to let them. I wish I knew a way to let them. I don't."
"If they left out the right parts, yes. What parts do you imagine I could fold in to a description of mutilated prisoners dangling from a cliff face by one arm, only two of many clinging to life, to make that sound like the Enemy had no choice? I remember it quite clearly, I can make an illusion if words don't cut it. I cannot keep the orcs prisoner, I cannot let them go, but I am not torturing them. Orcs are born in constant pain and I fixed it."
"I imagine the orcs would rather their babies not go to the Elves-and-orcs afterlife with them, but I can ask, if that would make you feel better."