Savil gives Vanyel a narrow-eyed look. :Ke'chara, are you sure? No offence, but you look like hell: 

He rolls his eyes. :Why do you always have to rub it in like that?: 

Leareth moans and shivers when Nayoki touches him, but doesn't wake up. 

"The suit should be able to hook into the time-travel hardware. I can control it remotely so it's linked to mine; if you'd rather control it yourself I can take the armor off him, but it's serving some medical functions at the moment."

"You should take this," says Fëanor, and offers Thor a Silmaril. "Past me will recognize it as his own work, though I won't have made them yet. It might help dispel any skepticism about being from the future. Also, you should probably go outside the house before traveling, so you don't scare us quite so much."

Thor puts Vanyel down gently and takes the Silmaril.

They all go outside, Vanyel leaning on Thor's shoulder, and travel back 18,000 years, as they would be counted on Earth.

The first thing anyone notices is that it's very bright. Everything looks about the same, except for the light—it's coming from somewhere on the western horizon, bright gold with a faint tinge of silver. If anyone's eyes are strong enough to look directly at the light source, they'll see that it's two huge trees, planted on a high hill to the west. (Those who have been to Valinor before can faintly remember seeing huge trees—but very dead and not glowing—in approximately the same spot.) They are also blindingly bright to Othersenses—not as bright as Infinity Stones, but physically larger, so that they might actually be more overwhelming to look at.

They walk back to the house and knock on the door.

The door is answered by a young, red-haired elf woman, carrying a dark-haired baby.

She says something in a language none of them understand.

Vanyel would like there to be LESS light he has a HEADACHE. He walks leaning on Thor, eyes squeezed shut, with Savil holding his other hand. He's definitely not looking at the Trees with mage-sight. 

Savil is and it's incredibly beautiful. Overwhelming, sure, but that doesn't make her want to look away. 

Oh, right, language barrier, obviously. 

:Can you understand me?: Nayoki tries, in Mindspeech. 

Yes. Who are you? Not elves, and I don't think you're Maiar.

:It is a long story. We are humans - your world has humans in the distant future, but actually I, and these others -: gesture at Vanyel and Leareth and Savil and the Healers, :all come from a different world. - Also from about 1800 local years in your future. In that future, there is a war, with a very powerful enemy, who... Who kills half of the people in the universe. It is a very big universe. Anyway, we are trying to fix that and we were working with your...husband?: is 'husband' right, she is suddenly drawing a blank on how Elf relationships work and it seems like she never thought to ask, :- with Fëanor. In the future. He gave us a magical artifact he made, to show his past self. Thor?: 

Thor shows Nerdanel the Silmaril.

"Half the people in the universe died" is probably not good information to drop on Nerdanel, who has never known literally a single other person who's died, for whom death itself is a distant legend, a thing that used to happen to them in the bad old days before she was born and is now easily fixable—especially alongside the existence of "other worlds"—what does that even mean?—and another species, though she had, at least, heard Men mentioned as something that would exist eventually. Nonetheless, she is married to Fëanor, and is not entirely unused to the unexpected. This is just—well, scale up her usual tolerance, she supposes.

That does sound very bad! she says. And yes, Fëanáro is my husband, he's away in the city giving lectures on the new writing system he invented, but I'm sure he'll want to hear about this—that does look like something he might make, she adds, looking at the Silmaril.

She osanwës Fëanor a brief wordless summary of what's going on.

A hundred miles away, in Tirion, Fëanor stops abruptly in the middle of explaining the newly-invented tengwar to a packed lecture hall.

What?! he replies. Hold on, I'll be there right away.

He hastily apologizes to his audience and runs off stage, out of the university, back to the palace stables, grabs the first horse he sees, and is off at a gallop towards his country house.

He's on his way, Nerdanel tells Nayoki. It'll be a while—the Palace horses are fast, but it's a hundred miles away—he's actually got this design for a faster mode of transport, but most people think it's too ugly to build, and it's not like we're in a hurry anyway—well, usually—

She notices Leareth and Vanyel and is suddenly very concerned. Are those two—okay—here, come inside—

:- No, not really. There was a fight - it went badly, they were hurt, we can explain once Fëanor is here. Vanyel just needs somewhere to lie down comfortably, I think, Leareth is...worse off–: 

She stops in the middle of trying to think how to ask about medical technology or magic. :...I can get Fëanor here immediately. If he can Mindspeak you a mental image of where he is, I can make a Gate there, a sort of portal -: 

She's done so many goddamned Gates today - unscaffolded awful ones, too - and after this one she might not be able to walk, but it seems important. And they're safe here, hopefully, and Savil can't do this for her but should be able to handle any other needs for mage-work that come up. 

Savil helps Vanyel follow Nerdanel inside. Leareth is still being hover-floated around in Tony's suit, so he'll need to handle that part. 

Tony walks inside and has Leareth follow him, trying not to stare at the elf-woman, who looks really familiar. It would probably be rude to say anything, though—maybe to the one from his own time, the wife of the Fëanor he knows better, but she's currently dead.

Tony's mind-shield went down when Strange died, so Nerdanel can sort of pick up on his thoughts, though she's not trying to. She smiles amusedly to herself. It almost makes her trust Tony more, though of course that's completely irrational—and he does look a bit like Fëanor himself, though for some reason he has hair growing out of his face—

These people have some kind of magic, she tells Fëanor. Let me share your eyes, and they can—somehow—get you here faster, I think.

Fëanor stops, pulls off the road, and gets off his horse. Nerdanel doesn't really need to ask to share his eyes—the marriage bond makes it very difficult to keep private thoughts from each other even if they wanted to—but he pushes the mental image in her direction.

Nerdanel passes it on to Nayoki.

She grits her teeth, winces at the power-drain, and ends up sort of sitting on the floor just inside Fëanor's house. But the Gate goes up, one end of it on the doorway, the other end door-sized and shaped and built on thin air a yard in front of younger-Fëanor's face. 

:Tell him to hurry, please: 

Fëanor steps through and looks in amazement at all the unfamiliar people in his house.

Hey, he says, mostly to Nerdanel but broadcasting so that everyone can hear him. What's going on—half the people in the universe—other worlds—are you Secondborn? I didn't think you existed yet. The last question is, of course, directed at the humans.