...

"Yeah. So we - told his people what he was mobilizing them to do, and I guess you could call it a very peaceful coup, they turned against him and he threw his crown on the ground and walked off and tried to do the mission with whoever stood by him, of which there were ten, plus the human kid. They were all captured. We didn't have quite the - consensus - necessary to actually stop him from turning himself and all his secrets over to the Enemy -"

"I assume that his dangerous instability was not, in fact, apparent when he was chosen to be king? How long ago was this?"

"Couple months ago for the dangerous instability, four hundred years ago for the chosen as king."

"And his departure and capture?"

"Assuming he was captured as soon as he got to Tol-in-Gaurhoth, which is probably what happened, that would have been six weeks ago."

"How defensible is Nargothrond, then?  I'd been assuming it's safety relied largely on secrecy, are you evacuating?"

"There's only the one entrance over the river and there's nowhere safer."

"...lovely." They fall silent again.

"I know."

They continue to walk in silence for a while.  If they've been counting right they should be arriving soon... They shove any thoughts of godslaying to the back of their brain and start up a litany of Kindly stay out of my mind in the foreground of their thoughts. Hopefully it will help.  Gods, they miss their ring. 

Here is a gorge through which the river picks up its past, swift and dangerous. They cross ahead of that point, and then walk a narrow one-person track that winds along the side of the cliff, and then there's a stone gate in the cliffside.

He stands there for a few minutes.

It opens.

Kindly stay out of my mind kindly stay out of my mind

The people look questioningly at Celegorm and then let them both in. 

It's pretty. High arched ceilings, in places natural and in places obviously carved in, every inch decorated with careful intricate detailing in some metal that shines as if it's white-hot. It's narrow for a while and then opens up into something resembling a cathedral, full of people. Some of them turn and stare, but most keep at what they're doing.

Stares, they can deal with. They've dealt with stares before. Kindly stay out of my mind "Which way to your inquisitive brother? Actually, scratch that, which way to someone who might have some clothes they'd be willing to give away or trade for future favors?"

"I'll have someone meet us at Curufin's with clothes, no problem."

"It's a lovely city. Are all elven cities like this?  Tylantia was fairer, I think, but I left when I was young, that might just be nostalgia."

"They're prettier, actually, when not constrained by wartime and secretness and stuff. Tirion was -" he sends an image. It is stunning even in memory.

Malak flinches visibly. "I see."

"Something wrong?"

"Telepathy. Your other city is beautiful but I would prefer not to see it that way."

"Sorry. People kind of use it all the time, really convenient, I can tell them not to -"

"Thank you. Where I am from mind magic is rare enough that... well, there aren't many benign users. And I have met more of the other kind than I would have liked. I'll adjust, given time, but I'd rather people not use it on me unless it's extremely important for a few months at least."

"I'll let them know." He knocks on a door.

Curufin opens it. "Celegorm-"

"There are different worlds, different magic, you need to talk to them -"

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"Come on in."

"Hello again. I'm temporarily fluent in... whatever you call this tongue. I hear you're likely to have questions?"