"It's not strictly chronological. I'll go make room..." She rummages around in her freezer. "- you just have to like nonmaliciously request them and credibly indicate that you have somewhere to put them - you don't even need me, if they were from here, we've got the wished on setup."

Food in freezer. "There's a set from here but also sets from other places. How long does it take if I request them -"

"I've never requested anybody. You'll need one of us if you want ones from places outside our neighborhood I guess. Maybe a week if you do it through the queue here unless it gets flagged."

"Let's do the set from Cube now, then, and I'll also put in a queue request."

"...here?"

"No, a Lórien. I can give you a ride."

"Yeah, all right."

"Thank you!!!!!" And he has to drop her off in Lórien and actually go near Cube to make the basement dwellers - clothed and hair braided for Rebecca, clothed and with a hat for the baby - but then he has them. 

The magic rock gets in her red-gold-black outfit and taps each with brilliant gold light.

"Thank you," Epic whispers, and takes her home.

Then he goes and gets Macalaurë. "Okay she's alive now. Do you want to wait for her -"

            "Lórien will let her find me when it's right, yes?"

"Yeah."

He vanishes.

Rebecca and Catherine are in a soft little valley with sunlight streaming in; there's a brook in the mid-distance, and a gleaming golden bridge. The valley is full of flowers. There are trees but they don't encroach. 

Rebecca startles.

"Wa," says Catherine, and Rebecca startles again, and focuses on her in disbelief, bursts into tears, and scoops her up and holds her tight.

It becomes a little clearer that this is not Heaven when it transpires that Catherine is hungry and Rebecca still can't feed her. She carries a whimpery baby across the bridge anxiously.

The brook changes from water to milk when she crosses it.

...okay. She will attempt to scoop milk up for the baby.

There are shells with rubbery lips in the river, as if designed for that purpose.

Heaven is strange. But she can make this work. Shell-feeding of little Catherine.

The flowers grow up around where they're sitting. Little Catherine appears to be in perfect health.

Rebecca sings to her. Presently Catherine is full and napping.

...Rebecca resumes progress across the bridge.

The bridge resumes being water when it doesn't seem needed. There's someone singing beautifully in the distance.

Ooh. Angel? Angel probably. She picks up the pace.

He's sitting on a little bit of a hill singing. He smiles and waves at her when she steps out of the trees.

She stops at the foot of the hill and bows as much as she can without disturbing Catherine and sits on the grass and listens.

Hello, Rebecca. 

Shiver. - hello.

You're alive. It's been a very long time- two hundred years, a bit more. We ended death and ended evil - here, at least, not everywhere - and we learned how to bring people back to life.