Ah. 

"I'm not gonna let them keep the kids under the kids' protest. Ideally I would at least - let them know anything about what's going on, I imagine they'd be incredibly worried if the kids just disappeared. I mean, they'll be incredibly worried either way, but - less."

"Would it be easier if someone else explained?"

"I dunno. Maybe me and someone else. It's gonna sound insane no matter what. They don't know about aliens or other dimensions or anything like that. And at least if I talk to them they'll know the kids weren't just kidnapped by - I don't even know what they'll decide you people are."

"We should come up with a name for ourselves. Right now we use Quendi, which means 'speakers', which doesn't differentiate us from most of the aliens, apparently."

"Yeah, I think a lot of kinds of things speak. But they probably mostly don't use the word 'Quendi' to refer to themselves, so it probably wouldn't be confusing on other people's ends? Although it might be confusing on your end."

"I think it's too imprecise even if no one else minds, but we'll have a proper debate over it in Tirion and see how it shakes out."

Nod. If that's how they do things. 

"Anyway, I think you don't look alien enough that my parents will believe you about being aliens. Maybe if you were giant floating jellyfish or something. - I guess you don't know what a jellyfish is."

"We don't know how to do interdimensional transit without a Vala yet."

"We - also mostly don't except apparently lots of people secretly do. My parents are not going to believe that it's a thing. At least not unless someone picks them up and drops them somewhere."

"I don't know how amenable to recreational trips the Valar will be, but plausibly not very."

"Super reasonable. Honestly letting them think I've gone insane isn't much of a difference from where we are now, so... as long as Connor and Zana aren't stuck somewhere else, I guess."

"We'll get them."

Nod.

Their cart rolls up to Lórien. The trees grow up tall and lush and shady. Lórien didn't have a road earlier but it has one now. 

The Elves start singing.

Karen has no particular opinions on singing. She's just gonna kind of wait to see what everyone else does again.

In the middle of the forest, once they are ready, she has silently pulled person by person out of her shawl and set them on the ground. Some of them are shivering and without clothes, so she sets them down wrapped in a length of the shawl that tears off with them. It's silvery-blue and doesn''t seem to be made out of any threads or anything.

If Lórien does not think it'll be particularly healing for Nienna to be there when they get their bearings, she'll be out of sight by the time they look around.

There are about five hundred humans huddled in the forest. They are uninjured but mostly incapable of taking actions. Most of them are standing or squatting where they were let out, holding themselves, or else have fallen asleep in exhaustion. Several are bathing in a nearby stream. A few dozen of them are together enough to make plans, and have taken to gathering food and attempting to feed the humans who look like they might come around to taking actions after being fed and led to water. They have built a fire. A few of those who share a language are sitting around it talking about plans for exploration and continued survival.

The road ends and the cart bumps along through conveniently clear forest instead. And then there are people. 

Hi? We got you food.

Some of the previously nonfunctional people either understand this or smell the food and come rushing forward. A few go for the cart immediately in an attempt to secure enough food for themselves, then run away to escape retaliation. Most of them keep huddling. Even most of the ones who react don't go all the way to the cart. They line up and assume a posture somewhere between a bow and a defeated slump, waiting to be given food. Many of them seem to be under the impression that they are still enslaved, but are being taken to work somewhere else. A few of them dare to hold out their hands. None of them talk, except the group by the campfire, where people whisper to each other and do not approach the cart.

They have trauma. He doesn't know very much about trauma but he knows it makes people act weird and you should not be surprising. He hands out food with his very best attempt at slow even movements. 

Do you know any of these people?

I don't think so. She scans the group for Azalea but doesn't see her. Nobody else she knows, either, except -

- oh wait, I think that one's a paralegal? I don't actually know her at all but - maybe a bunch of these are Wolfram & Hart people. Uh. Former Wolfram & Hart people.

Huh.

Probably we should get something from Lórien for the people who aren't moving and not try to give them pastries.

That sounds right to me. Something nutritious and hydrating that they can't choke on and that tastes nice.