"Not yet.

"And at any rate, when I showed up here, I wasn't imagining it as a fucking reward. If I was brought here for any reason at all, Your Wise and Benevolent Majesty, it was probably to get your help. Speaking of which—this is the land of the gods, no? Where were they while we were out there getting our asses kicked?"

A look of recognition spreads across Elu's face.

"Oh," he says. "You're the new Eärendil. Allowed to come make a last, desperate plea for the aid of the Valar. I don't think it will do you any good, this time. The attack of the new Enemy slew half of the Powers as easily as it slew half of all Elves and Men."

Based on the panicked whispers that spread around the room, this probably wasn't widely disseminated information before.

"Nonetheless, you are beyond my authority. I am remanding you to the custody of the Valar, who brought you here, and must have some idea of your purpose if they did, or will punish you appropriately if they did not. Melian will escort you to them."

There is a flash of brilliant light, and then there is a woman—a goddess, probably—standing between Tony and Thingol. It is a provably true fact that she is the most beautiful being in the universe, though she isn't ostentatious about it: she's probably shorter than Melian, and not physically glowing in the sense that one could see by, and dressed in unornamented white. She does not need anything more. If she wore the fairest of jewels, the Silmarils of old themselves, their light would only seem to cast a shadow before her. But her eyes are the deep blue of late evening, and sparkle as though the host of the stars were only their reflection, and her skin shines as though all light in the universe were her creation. (It is.)

Looking at her is like looking directly at the Sun, but it's nearly impossible to look away. The memory of the Incarnates is too small to capture her beauty, and every moment one looks on her seems to be their first and their last. One might be content to stare at her for all the Ages of Arda.

Thingol gets up from his throne, kneels, and bows his head.

Okay, this new arrival must be really important. Tony does the same.

THERE WILL BE NO NEED FOR AN ESCORT FOR MY GUESTS, LORD ELWË. The sky seems to ring like a bell when she speaks.

Then she turns to Tony and smiles. RISE, TONY STARK. I AM VARDA ELENTÁRI, LADY OF THE STARS. COME, AND JOIN OUR COUNCIL.

Tony feels his heart stop for an uncomfortably long time. Long enough that, were he wearing his suit with vitals monitoring, FRIDAY would definitely be beeping at him right now. But he recovers, and rises to his feet.

YOU TOO, FINDARÁTO. She is speaking to the Noldo who was arguing with Legolas earlier, who had accompanied them to Thingol's court.

The world changes, and now Varda, Tony, and Findaráto are standing on a smooth hard floor that is neither metal nor stone nor glass, beneath a transparent dome. Based on the color of the sky beyond, they must be almost at the edge of space.

Tony walks to the edge of the room and looks down.

He's on top of a really high mountain. Its base lies nine miles below him, covered in equatorial jungle, but it extends up through cold forest, and alpine tundra, and everlasting ice, to an uttermost tower of stone in air so thin and cold that not even snow can form, and on that tower stands Ilmarin, mansion of Manwë and Varda, from which one can see the entire world.

He can see Tol Eressëa out to sea and far below him, in impossible detail, down to the smallest leaf, down to the cells that make up the leaves, and on scales smaller still. He can see the planet's curvature, easily, but he can see beyond the horizon, to the other side of the world. If he looks up he can see stars, thousands of light-years away, with planets around them, and on those planets, craters and continents and oceans and forests and individual trees—

He can see Earth, if he wants to.

He's afraid to look.

Varda looks at Tony playing with his new infinite-resolution vision, and laughs, a sound as though the crystal spheres of heaven had been made into wind chimes. IT'S COOL, I KNOW. TRY NOT TO GET LOST IN IT. WERE MY HUSBAND WITH ME, I COULD HEAR AS WELL AS SEE ALL THINGS THAT CAME TO PASS IN THE UNIVERSE. BUT— Her words fail, and she gestures to the two thrones of translucent crystal in the center of the room, and Tony remembers what Elu said about the Snap extending even to the Valar.

"I'm sorry. We're going to beat him."

I KNOW.

HE IS HERE. The sky beyond Ilmarin seems to zoom in on a particular star system, and on a green planet, and then on Thanos himself. He's picking some sort of large vegetable.

I COULD, AND VERY MUCH WANT TO, DESTROY HIS WHOLE PLANET IN AN INSTANT, BUT I DO NOT THINK IT WOULD BE THE WILL OF ERU.

"Is he—farming?"

"He called it the Garden. His work is done, and now he means to rest. You could kill him, if you like. I don't think he would care. But he will destroy the stones before you can manage it—the Time Stone lets him see far enough into the future to be forewarned."

"How did you get up here?"

"The ship." She points out the window; the Benatar is docked to one of the many wings of Varda's celestial mansion. "There was a voice calling me. I followed it. I think it was her." She points at Varda.

IT WAS.

"So, uh, what's the plan here?"

"I was going to ask you that.

"Ah, I don't think we've met. Findaráto Ingoldo called Finrod Felagund, one of far too many Princes of the Noldor, first ambassador of the Eldar to the race of Men."

"Tony Stark, called—well, you know, apparently."

"Iron Man. In Quenya that could almost be a real name—Atanango or something like that. Yes, I'm familiar with your deeds, although I was a friend of your species long before you started doing anything interesting."