Ah.

There are a lot more than eight souls at stake in this fight. It was obviously worth it.

I confess I don't get why the Silmarils in particular. I suppose other avenues for not fading away weren't on the radar at the time...

My father doesn't conclude lightly that something cannot be done no matter how much time. He has concluded it in this case. Maybe now that we have interdimensional transport and perhaps infinity gems, the fate of the Elves to be confined to Arda has other avenues of approach, but if it was going to be just us in this fight, we needed to believe we could reach for the stars if the war ever ended.

The real stars and not the fake Valar-suck-at-their-jobs stars. Yes, I see the reasoning, sort of.

The Valar asked my father to give them the Silmarils. Well, the nicer ones asked, some of them turned up their Vala-powers and declared that the Silmarils, being made from materials in their paradise, were rightly their property anyway. A Vala who has decided to use their presence to be convincing is a scary thing. Father - likes to retaliate, when people have that kind of power over him, by setting himself irrevocably on his current path.

- why did they even want them?

They could restore the Trees and the full bliss of Valinor.

Didn't they make the Trees in the first place? Why couldn't they just... make... more trees?

The Trees were a one-time thing, the sort of creation that cannot be repeated. There are a lot of those. The Silmarils themselves. They're a sufficiently large part of fate that they get very deeply threaded in it, I've heard said, though that's not a very constructive explanation. Sufficient to say that the Valar could not make the Trees again, deeply desired to, and asked my father to give them the Silmarils to heal the old trees.

Couldn't they have borrowed them?

Wouldn't surprise me.

Anyway, the Valar regard the Silmarils as their property, but probably are unwilling to damn us forever by taking them; the Enemy could be creative and use the Oath against us but luckily hasn't so far, and I personally benefit tremendously from having my fate irrevocably tied to my family's, at least until that fate catches up with us.

Well, the free will thing would be a postwar project, if possibly immediately postwar.

At that point I don't think I'd benefit as much. I still won't willingly revoke it without my father's leave. I decided a while ago which parts of me are signed over to him and that certainly is.

Noted. If it is feasible I will not free-will anybody who doesn't want it whose lack of free will is less obnoxious to others than the orcs' is.

It's getting late, he says, though they're underground and the building windowless and one wouldn't really be able to tell. Conversations with you are reliably fascinating, Loki. I think it is good that you're staying to help your Men settle.

Thank you. Where am I crashing for the night?

We have guest suites that are for diplomatic reasons not elegantly emblazoned with the regalia of my house. No hot running water yet, unfortunately, though that's happening in the next month. One of the diplomatic guest suites opens onto my rooms but I shall put you in one of the other ones.

...and is that for the other maudlin gay elf as a just in case someday thing, or what, she doesn't ask. I will be fine without hot running water. Up she gets.

He is watching her expression closely anyway and smirks when she does not ask. Someday I'll tell him that I built it in and that will be meaningful to him even though he'll probably never visit here.

I do not have nearly your control over my facial expressions, she grumbles. I want credit for not asking.

Why should I mind if you ask? There isn't anyone else who I can tell.

Fair enough, I suppose. Chalk it up to me not knowing how you tick.