"That sounds upsetting. I'm sorry."

"It would bother me more if this wasn't in fact the sort of thing I'd want to do," Annie sighs. "But it is, I'm the only person who can do it and it needs done."

"And hopefully by the time it's done she'll have talked her way out."

Nod nod. "- I wonder if Mandos will let her send messages back - or if that would burn social capital or something to try -"

"I bet she'll have good instincts for what to risk, whatever the answer is."

"Yeah."

And they return home.

And Annie rests and eats and goes looking for a portal to go through.

It's all set up as Mandos promised.

She goes through.

Partially embodied orcs work as long as they're solid enough to rest a hand on.

They are. There are a lot of them.

That's okay. She brought a book. Has Mandos already explained the possible side effect or does she need to do that part?

Mandos is confusing when she tries to explain things.

Okay. Annie explains it. Maybe Mandos can just relay her exact words to all the orcs at once so Annie does not have to say it millions of times.

Mandos can do that.

Annie repeats the warning she gave the live orcs, before.

And then starts her work.

There are a lot of orcs. Millions. Mandos relays Annie's messages and relays some back for her. I remember you fondly, Rirosseth will say, and desire to atone for my errors in life that I might return to it, and hope that your hours are filled with joy in the meantime.

Annie's hours are filled with orcs, and books, and writing love letters in otherworldly languages which she would never dream of dictating to Mandos. She dictates to Mandos shorter, less incriminating things, subdued, thin veneers of text over mountains of subtext. Annie is the perfect diligent servant of the bliss of Valinor and ever so dedicated to repairing the harm Melkor did -

The Valar raise an island for Elian and the Men who fought in the War of Wrath. They make them longer-lived and prettier and taller and more Elf-like than other Men, as a special divine blessing. They explain to them that they must never come to Valinor for the mortals ought not to aspire to things the gods did not intend them to have. Elian has her work cut out for her. She sets to it.

...well, it's good that she's doing well. She probably didn't even look conspicuously sick to her stomach at the thing about constraining her aspirations.

She didn't! She smiled beatifically and thanked the Valar and invited them to help her stock her library. She learned from the best, after all.  

Annie looks kind of miserable all the time but anyone in Valinor would probably think that's just her face, so.

Orcs. Orcs and not collapsing in despair and little messages for Rirosseth, updating her on Elian and anything else that's going on, reassuring her that Annie is still here and still capable of putting one foot in front of the other.

And messages back, thanking her, promising she'll come back as soon as she possibly can, she hopes Annie is happy, she hopes so much that Annie is happy.

Annie is... hopeful. That's sort of like being happy, right?

Or something. Rirosseth remembers her fondly. Rirosseth appreciates her messages. Rirosseth enjoys hearing from her. Rirosseth does not say 'I love you'.