Then she will respond in Yahivi (which is delightful, because she doesn't get to do that very often anymore). "I did! Sorry about yesterday. I should be fine now."

"Sorry for -"

"Sorry for, uh, attempting to do things I couldn't do and then attempting to self-cannibalize and then bleeding on your table?"

"How would anyone invent anything new if people never tried to do things they couldn't do? You shouldn't be sorry for that. I guess maybe you owe your hand an apology if you think of it as the sort of thing one apologizes to."

"People traditionally don't apologize to their body parts and if you do it in front of people then they will think that's kind of weird. But it has taken one for the team recently. So - sorry, hand," she says, giving it a pat. "I am ready to try translating things again without the self-cannibalism."

"Oh good." Bounce bounce.

The bouncing really does help offset the thing where people who have their own planets are sort of inherently terrifying. 

Yahivi has a different enough rhythm that Imrainai doesn't generally think that most of the poetic forms she uses in Etra La are very good choices across languages. She knows different forms that work with Yahivi, though, so the translation has its own rhythm and its own structure and its own life. She errs on the side of making things sound natural when that goal conflicts with an exact translation. It's the same story, but different things are emphasized. She can't think while writing, not yet, so the composition process is going to involve a lot of reciting things aloud.

This project takes longer than writing the poem in the first place, since she hasn't told this version enough times to have her favorite constructions memorized. She's not going to finish it today, but she makes some good progress.

He is delighted and fascinated and wants language clarifications throughout. 

She is happy to clarify!

She will, in fact, be perfectly happy to compose and translate and analyze poetry for approximately as long as Fëanáro seems interested, provided she has the chance to sleep and eat and occasionally covertly cry in her closet and reflect on the absurdity of her circumstances. She's not going to run out of stories any time soon. She knows a lot of stories and they contain a lot of words.

Then the trip goes quickly. 

Valinor has two suns. It's green and blue and pretty even from a distance. Another shuttle takes them down. 

(Aaaaa.)

She will just. Sort of vaguely stick to Fëanáro and focus on the pretty and try not to think too hard about what's going to happen to her.

A pregnant Elf is waiting there when they land.

"Oh," he says, "I wondered if they'd fetch you! Hi! She knows three languages! One of them works by lights flashing, I built a blessing for it, you should install it - 97816 this is my friend Mirelótë - and that over there is my son Morifinwë and that over there is my son Nelyafinwë -" 

She waves shyly at all of the people and focuses on remembering their names and tries to look less overwhelmed than she is. She mostly succeeds.

"Hello, 97816!" Mirelótë pronounces the foreign numbers fluidly enough despite having no idea that they are in fact numbers. "It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Mirelótë! I'm - sorry if I'm not saying that quite right."

Do not think about how important Mirelótë probably is, do not think about anything, just - keep making vaguely sensible words, it's gonna be fine.

"Mirelótë!" he says helpfully with the vowels just the slightest touch different. "Having an accent is also not something Elves usually apologize for."

"Father! Thank you for coming so quickly."

"The ship actually went the same -"

"I told him you would say that. I offered to bet him but -"

"But why would anyone bet you. Ever."

"I read a foreign guide to Noldorin politics that recommended losing a bet to you in order to get you to like the bettor," he tells Morifinwë.

"- that's so upsetting!"

And by then they're within range of human hearing. "Hello, 97816! Welcome to Valinor. Was your travel comfortable?"

"Yes! Very, thank you." Except for the thing with crying in the closet and staying awake for like an entire day and trying to eat her own hand, but she's not gonna mention any of that if nobody else does.