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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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The camp is full of people in motion. The waterwheel is turning.
purposeful_glory
She walks in and then says, "I have unpleasant and substantial news, who's on deck for that."
"Is everyone we know alive?" Macalaurë says. Come on in and make the conference room quiet, please.
purposeful_glory
"Yes, only people you don't know have died recently that I know of." She comes to the conference room, wraps it up.
"Please do expand on that."
purposeful_glory
"After I've told you what's going on I'm willing to sit through a lie detection song and confirm or deny relevant things if you don't care for the look of things," she says, "so bear that in mind."
And she pulls transcripts. Slightly redacted flight conversation, personal distress excised without comment and preparations for the game of Governor pulled with [irrelevant game discussion omitted for brevity] in its place.
Conversations with Men [some similar conversations omitted for brevity], Nandor - Thauron.
And Maitimo.
And Lúthien and Melian.
And she pulls transcripts. Slightly redacted flight conversation, personal distress excised without comment and preparations for the game of Governor pulled with [irrelevant game discussion omitted for brevity] in its place.
Conversations with Men [some similar conversations omitted for brevity], Nandor - Thauron.
And Maitimo.
And Lúthien and Melian.
He takes a long time to read through it all.
"I should get my father."
"I should get my father."
purposeful_glory
"I suppose if you want to be really thorough you'll want to sing the lie detection song the long way around and someone else will have to quiz me. Oh, also, I can get two songs to work at once, could probably get it to work on wearable earpieces too."
"Yes, though that's not the primary reason I'm getting him. I'm glad to hear that, making two songs go well together is a difficult composition problem and not as fun as inventing them. I'm actually going to ask everyone to come here, are you going to feel threatened?"
purposeful_glory
"Assuming you plan to ask me questions and find my stated motivations satisfactory-if-confirmed? No."
"I am planning to hold a council of war and decide what if anything we can do about Thauron. I'd like it if you'd stop asking my not-quite-sane-and-in-intense-psychologi
purposeful_glory
"I'm not planning to bother him again. I'll leave him transcripts attached to paper with a Dwarf messenger, when I'm down that way."
"You and I talked about this with respect to my father. We're people, even people you like, but we're rounding errors in the games you're playing. At least my father is in a position to resent you for it if he likes, or forgive it if he shares your goals. Maitimo isn't in a position to do either."
"Are you glad Thauron made you the offer in the first place?"
The door opens, and the rest of the family files in. "I didn't explain," Macalaurë says. "You just need to read this."
purposeful_glory
Loki works on her spell quietly while they do that. No acceleration.
"All right," Fëanor says after a moment. "There are some things I would like to confirm before we decide how to handle Thauron and the Men. You're willing to answer questions that are verified for honesty?"
purposeful_glory
"Yes, assuming the spell is noninvasive as Maitimo described."
"It doesn't make you honest," Macalaurë says, "it means I'll notice."
He starts singing, very quietly.
"Have you, to your knowledge, had conversations with the Enemy other than this one?" Fëanor says.
"Have you, to your knowledge, had conversations with the Enemy other than this one?" Fëanor says.
purposeful_glory
"The Balrog was in the Nolofinwëan's camp for an unknown period of time and could conceivably have spoken to me in disguise and certainly overheard me talking; various orcs all of whom you know about to the extent they count; otherwise no."
"Were there interactions in this conversation which were not communicated in the transcript? Some examples, not exhaustive: osanwë, use of your illusions to communicate, exchange of written material, exchange of any objects?"