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.
It still barely costs him anything. He has, what, a million by now? He honestly might be sending you ones he's inclined to dispose of anyway. Or he might be trying to turn Mandos against you, Mandos might eventually get unamused with your death toll. Though he cares more about Elves than Orcs. And isn't going to do anything for five centuries anyway.
I might have considered it but he's just so darned determinedly evil and the Valar are merely incompetent assholes and therefore a lesser priority.
...I don't think she had a crush on me. And that's - well, partial solution, but the most important part.
If he wants to stop being so fucking evil then it's Valar-in-general who get to lose faster and harder because I'm on hand. Maybe he'd go for it. But if he wants to win and he wants to win under the banner of Being Really Really Evil then it's not gonna work out.