She can generate books in a quiet room next door to the conference room where fifteen or so Noldor are learning them, so they can bother her for missing bits of information if there are any.

Sounds like a plan.

When she is done generating books they will still be learning them.

She wishes them all speed on that and goes back to her standard pursuits.

A while later they ask if they can have some of her fabulous wealth to hire Dwarven surveying and mining operations.

Sure.

The Enemy attacks a few months later. It cannot possibly be meant to destroy them - just, one assumes, to demoralize them. Three hundred thousand orcs, racing out of Angband down the plains in a terrible mass of blackened armor and pale, childlike faces under the helmets.

Nope. They fall over, obviously, and trample each other. But they must have specific orders to keep going, because they do.

I can just kill them all. Anybody have a better idea?

Nobody can think of a better idea.

Afterwards, the Enemy sends the bat-things she remembers seeing in Angband when she rescued Maedhros. They feed on the corpses. They don't actually bother anything else, but the Elves still shoot down all the ones who get too close.

What even are those?

Thuringwethil would know, I think? I think they were a project of hers. Maedhros gets exceptionally grim when his job mostly involves standing on the walls of his city staring down hundreds of thousands of corpses.

"Hey, baby. Think of anything to offer me?"

"No, I just wanted to know what the bat scavenger things are called and heard they were a project of yours. If you don't want me popping by to chat I can stop."

"Nah, it's the highlight of the Ages. The bat scavenger things are only eating dead stuff, right? I worked pretty hard on that."

"Yeah, just dead stuff."

"Oh, he decided to start a fight with you? That's just mean. Sorry, sweetheart."

"It wasn't much of a fight, but they wouldn't turn around."

"He does not actually create orcs fast enough to continually occupy your waking hours by having them senselessly march to their deaths on you. For what that's worth. Also, the orcs don't have a great way of verifying which Maia is booming orders in their head, if it's one they know we work with, so I could tell 'em to go home and they'd probably believe me, though he'd just turn them back around again so I'm not sure that helps you any."

"If I ever need some of them delayed a bit I'll keep that in mind."

She idly twirls a strand of hair around her finger. "The Elves think it's a kindness."