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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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purposeful_glory
That's where I got the draft of the rock-hauling song to share with you, she points out.
They're in a bit of a hurry.
purposeful_glory
I feel like more people on this stupid cylindrical planet could stand to be in a bit of a hurry.
To do what, exactly? March off to Angband? We can do that tomorrow. We've discussed it. We'd lose.
purposeful_glory
No, not to march off to Angband. To prepare, to invent, to think, to communicate and coordinate.
Inventing things the ways we do it takes a very long time. You can hurry at it but your pace still won't look hurried.
My cousins are in Doriath. Headed down to introduce themselves a year ago, came back six months later to say they were staying for the time being.
We actually looked into sending you people, communications, etcetera, but that desert is not safe to cross for those of us who can't turn into birds.
My cousins are in Doriath. Headed down to introduce themselves a year ago, came back six months later to say they were staying for the time being.
We actually looked into sending you people, communications, etcetera, but that desert is not safe to cross for those of us who can't turn into birds.
purposeful_glory
It's a stupid desert. I can try to be in touch more if you like.
My cousin who doesn't think any of us exist and who left us all to die writes every few months; you could aim for that.
And if you end up relocating to Maitimo's city we can visit regularly - or, rather, the barriers are political and not geographic.
Lūthien also sends her regards, in case you visited us before you next saw her, and says she's working with her mother on a nice song that will help her mother fall asleep. I assume you're able to read more into that than I can.
And your orcs are doing well. Did Macalaurë already mention that? Probably not, that side of the family has a bad case of single-track minds.
purposeful_glory
He didn't mention it. I wonder if I should go visit them.
Probably. Orcs breed like rabbits, three or four years is a long time to them.
purposeful_glory
...Well, I hope these ones haven't been breeding like rabbits, but I'll go visit. How many rock-hauling song things do you want?
As many as you can manage, honestly, we'll send them out to the mines and quarries.
purposeful_glory
So she attaches a bunch on whatever's handy. Anything else before I fly away?
Don't work yourself to death, it doesn't save anyone.
purposeful_glory
Behold how I am alive.
And she says hi to Irissë and Nolofinwë, and if they don't have anything else to say either, she flies south to orcs.
And she says hi to Irissë and Nolofinwë, and if they don't have anything else to say either, she flies south to orcs.
Brithombar looks the same as she remembers it.
Arveirnen looks deserted on a flyover.