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Tumunzahar makes Menegroth look like a contract project. Which, the Dwarves assure her, it was. The stonework is astonishingly careful and beautiful, silky to the touch up close while from a distance it gives the impression of stretching on forever above, a sky of stone with crystals for stars. Vast natural cave systems are connected by dozens of perfectly smooth, gently sloped broad stone pathways from which the fall, if she fell, would be several miles down. There are handrails. "We use those to move materials carts," someone explains to her, "we're not going to be reckless."
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.
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No one else wants to turn out to be a Balrog.
purposeful_glory
"Everybody stand nice and far away from everybody else while we run through the rest of the quiz," she snaps, "so I can skip straight to icing anybody who is having second thoughts about being a Balrog right about now."
Interrogations interrogations.
Interrogations interrogations.
No additional servants of the Enemy, unless they've found a way to beat lie detection.
purposeful_glory
"Any idea what happened to the fellow the Balrog was impersonating?"
Everyone is very worried but doesn't have any more information about the situation than she does.
purposeful_glory
Eugh. "Can any of you osanwë your camp from here to report in?"
They're just barely within range, and it takes some time and concentration, but someone tells a sister what's happened and the sister runs to fetch someone to report it to.
purposeful_glory
"Right. Be careful."
She turns to the orcs. The last of the blue's fading.
"Vár's long gone. I am not strong enough to go get her," she says softly. "I'm sorry."
She turns to the orcs. The last of the blue's fading.
"Vár's long gone. I am not strong enough to go get her," she says softly. "I'm sorry."
They watch her and shuffle their feet and scowl. "It's okay," someone offers hesitantly after a little while.
And the orc who knew this was all a lie raises an eyebrow and stays silent.
And the orc who knew this was all a lie raises an eyebrow and stays silent.
purposeful_glory
"It's not okay. It's just not fixable right now. I will work on it as fast as I can." She shakes her head. "I'm going to be far away and not able to visit regularly, too, I wish there were more of me to go around but I think you'll manage on your own better than the Men will. Do you have an internal social structure that makes sense without Vár?"
They know who's good at different things. They don't have anyone to tell them what to do but maybe the Quendi can stay and do that? Or everyone can try it and then whoever gives good orders can stay in charge.
The Quendi are a bit traumatized but feel responsible for having let this happen and are happy to help set it right.
purposeful_glory
Good Quendi. They can stay with the orcs until the orcs are on sustainable terms with Brithombar and have some kind of smallish government-like thing set up, shouldn't take long by Quendi standards. For this population direct democracy might even work - she explains the concept briefly - and if there's no Vár and Loki's far away that definitely cuts into their ability to increase the size of their settlement. At what time do they expect to be where they're going? She can dismiss the orcs' Quendi illusions on a schedule, assuming they don't want to just keep them.
Another week, and they're eager to go back to being orcs. It's in their oaths.
Nobody wants to say anything to the person who just blasted a Balrog, not really.
He's visibly terrified, but comes with her.
purposeful_glory
When they are out of Quendi earshot:
Lie detection song.
"Did you know?"
Lie detection song.
"Did you know?"
"Yes.
What would you have had me do?"
What would you have had me do?"
"They told you the truth. The difference is that I'm not an idiot and I knew Melkor wouldn't tolerate this once he'd learned of it and that he had to eventually learn of it and so when you came with an excuse for taking Vár away alone I knew. I didn't have any way to warn her without getting killed myself, without getting all of us killed, because he'd have been happy to kill all of us. I'm not sure why he didn't."
purposeful_glory
"Intel, probably, from the Balrog. Or as a show of good faith if I'd accepted his job offer."
He nods. "Will you make it quick?"