"They seem like kind of all around a terrible idea."

"So you can just do whatever job you want. Maybe it makes sense lots of you do." She dumps all the data off her devices.

"Yeah. I mean, not exactly, ruling the country is still done by the royal family in particular, but most other things."

Sigh.

"Hmmm?"

"Well, if I could do that here I'd go on Garden of Song and win a concert hall and if you're going to tell me I can command audiences on Valinor I am not going to believe you, I heard you -"

" - I am unusually talented for an Elf. Best on the planet, even."

"And I assume you have not indulged in lots of formal voice training and so on. If you want to sing you can sing even in Valinor."

"Thanks, but I think I'll just assume I will be singing private concerts to my li'l captive audience."

"She's adorable. - shaving an Elf's head would hurt them very badly. People know that difference species are different, but they might be startled to see, you might explain that it doesn't hurt your species and that now you're pleased she's allowed to grow it back now -"

"...how would it hurt? Unless you nicked them with the clippers?"

"We're, ah, really sensitive there. It's why we all have it braided."

"Huh."

"There are a lot of things where we seem to be different from you. Then there are also ones where we're not and you find something as horrible as we'd find it but you are really used to it."

"We live here," she shrugs. She thoughtfully removes a coat from her pile and puts it in what seems to be the give-to-sister pile.

"Tirion's pretty warm, yeah. - you don't have to live in Tirion but it's where we're in charge so it might be easiest."

"- Apef just really likes this sweater and you said I could afford clothes even if I can't get a job because you don't die and I can't sing compared to you," Peka explains. "If you're full of shit about what it's like on Valinor not having a second sweater will be the least of my problems."

He smiles a little. "I promise that if we were kidnapping pretty girls to our terrible kingdom that's even worse than this one we would be much more efficient about it and not start out by offending them terribly."

"Maybe your kingdom is lovely but none of the sweaters will fit me and you didn't think of it, then where will I be."

"Sweaterless! In Tirion, which as I said is nearly equatorial."

Awwwww. He grins back at her. 

She packs stuff. She has other questions about the availability of stuff in Valinor. Her brother comes back with a whole lot of formula of the kind that Katin likes. Katin requires two more meal breaks, the latter of which is accompanied by traditional red caste lullaby No One In The Cemetery Will Hurt You (All Of Them Are Dead) until she is napping on a chair.

This fucking planet. Not that it stops him from learning the lullaby and singing along.