The Valar announce that they've done as much as they can in Singularity (they can't bring back peoples' babies in that critical period either, but they can get them earlier versions) and are setting up portals between there and Sanity as soon as they are confident they've cleaned up the plague. A bunch of Elf architects have this wild idea for a fivedimensional city where alternating intersections are interdimensional portals between various Valinors and they get eagerly to setting it up.
"Yeah, sure." To Elves: "Do you guys program your own blessings already? I mean you collectively."
"Means they're dispensing with the pretense they're not time travellers."
"See, there are certain conversational defaults such that if you don't announce you're ignoring them people'll feel deceived when they figure that out. I think 'the certainty with which I make claims is not derived from literal knowledge of the future because I lived there' is one of them."
" - that language is an absolute mess," Fëanáre says distractedly. "Fascinating, of course, but - do you have anyone making sure that new words fit in nicely, at all -"
"We do not! This language corners other languages and rifles through their pockets and runs away cackling! One time this one playwright invented seventeen hundred new words and nobody stopped him! We are not sure how many words it has exactly but possibly more than a million!"
"Is anything on fire? No, scratch that, is anything on fire in some way that requires our individual attention right now, and can't be fixed later?"
"I will teach you fifty words and give you a book written with only those, how about." And he goes through the vocabulary list for Green Eggs And Ham and then hands her a book.
She perches herself on Maitimë's desk to read it. "I think this book encourages antisocial behavior," she says after a little while, frowning.
"You're the most exciting thing since Oromë found the Elves, please don't get booted back into the future for being - ahead of our time."
"Not gonna happen. I just find Elves precious; that book is intended for toddlers. Timothy finds my home society precious! Well, he did, I think he's got acclimated."
"And some. Inconsistently-applied high-mindedness turns out to be even more annoying than casual horribleness - not more bad, but more annoying."