"This does leave open the problem of what to do about the Men that Thauron is manipulating and terrorizing."

"Yes. Perhaps that's why Men are destined to be such a bloodthirsty, violent, dangerous species. What do you think should be done?"

"I've been coming up blank on ways to safely drive him from the area or even evacuate it of Men, but the situation will not improve if he is given longer than a few weeks to more thoroughly claim the area. The Men are only three weeks old, remind me very much of a perfectly functional cluster of civilizations I visited once, and deserve better than to be written off in their collective infancy; they do, I am told, have free will, and I thought this would make any rumored destiny of theirs suspect in the extreme."

"I agree that it's a terrible situation. Perhaps the newcomers should make themselves useful and send an army."

"Arrows barely annoyed a Balrog. Will they even annoy Gorthaur? I am persistently confused about the logistics of opposing powerful magical beings with swords, but perhaps it is more doable than I have been able to imagine."

"They can force us to expend energy that I imagine Gorthaur is expending on more harmful things, and he will eventually grow tired and choose to depart rather than continually so expending his energy."

"The casualties would be devastating, though, and the more motivatingly large a force the newcomers send the more vulnerable their home ground is to, say, another Balrog or two, of which I assume he has several and with whom I strongly suspect he can communicate with over great distances."

"Then I cannot think what can be done about Men."

"Perhaps the Valar would be motivated to hear that the Men are being so poorly treated and so badly misdirected, this early in their lives?"

"I will certainly make it known to them, and I hope they will send us aid."

Yeah, in like four hundred years maybe. "I will discuss the problem with the newcomers when I make my visit there tomorrow; they may have ideas, or be less averse to the idea of sending an army than I imagine."

She nods. "Very well."

Okay, good, they're not trying to stop her from leaving yet. "Is there more to say on this topic or would the two of you like to hear the message from last time I was with the newcomers?"

Melian sits back, frowning. "We'll hear the newcomers," Thingol says.

And so Loki digs up the diplomatic phrasing that the Fëanorians acceded to and reads it for them, Finwë being the only king of their people, gifts, ornamental flourishes.

Thingol nods. "We would be delighted to see our borders defended by weapons made by Finwë's children in Valinor; we will eagerly await the first such shipment. That delight is tempered by our knowledge of their violent nature, but perhaps it's suited to the violence of these times. Send our regards."

Loki nods and writes that down.

"I wish you would reconsider racing about the continent, though," he says. "I fear that you'll invite retaliation on peoples who aren't prepared for it."

"I have been planning to decrease my racing about," she says. "It was called for in the first weeks of my time here."

"We are glad to hear that. You have our leave to go, with the understanding that it may be wiser to remain."

"Thank you."

"Is there anything else you'd hear from us today?"

"I believe that is all, your majesties."

"Safe travels, child."