"Changing sides? Because that'd be a very dramatic way of announcing it, and I wholeheartedly approve, but also it looks like it's gonna be hard for that thing to take off from there."

"I'm afraid not," says Miles, opening his faceplate so she can more clearly see his smile. "I just came back from leveling the fortress of Angband, and that was the safest landing place I could find. I hope you don't begrudge me a corner of your side of the lake. Also, I have two of your cousins and a handful of miscellaneous members of their following still in the shuttle and needing to return to their camp." His smile lessens a little when he adds, "One is badly injured."

"You - what? Is there a reason you didn't tell us so we can head out there and try to take down Morgoth now, while he's apparently without a fortress?"

"Would knowing ten minutes earlier have made that much of a difference? People keep telling me that Elves do things slower than I'm used to."

"No, it wouldn't have. What would have made a difference was coming over here about ten hours before you did this so we could be there on the ground once the walls crumbled. What would have made more of a difference was knowing weeks in advance, but I guess you didn't know that far in advance yourself. You're something else, you know that? Tell my cousins that their men can head back over to their side as they please, but that the two of them have to swim."

"...Would you like to revise that suggestion in light of the fact that one of the two was just rescued from being chained to the side of a mountain next to the fortress?"

She blinks. "Eru. Russandol's alive? You got him out of there? Is he - thank you."

"Rescue missions are my favourite," he says brightly.

There are a few more people hurrying down the shore from Irissë's camp. She grimaces. "Unfortunately, I think you'll find this one to be a very unrewarded good deed. Who's with him?"

"Tyelcormo."

At that she outright laughs. "Nope, not reconsidering on the swimming. Actually, Russandol should just stay here, it'll simplify the succession dispute tremendously. Is that what you were coming here to say?" she asks the men arriving behind her.

"I'm not sure I follow your logic about the succession dispute."

"That is not what I was coming here to say. Miles Naisameth Vorkosigan, yes? Findekáno Astaldo. Welcome. Do either of my cousins require immediate medical attention, or do we have the luxury of talking politics for a few minutes?"

"Talking politics for a few minutes won't kill anyone."

And they do know how to open the hatch, so they won't be stuck in the shuttle unable to call for help if Russandol - Maitimo - Nelyo - how many names does that Elf have - if the rescuee's condition worsens unexpectedly.

"A pleasure to meet you, Findekáno Astaldo."

(He hasn't quite noticed that he's started picking up their dialect and shifting into it. Other things are occupying his attention.)

"If you've done half of what you claim to have done in the last five minutes, you are a great hero of our people, Miles Naisamith Vorkosigan. The political complication in question is whether Russandol is King of the Noldor."

"That does sound complicated."

"The current situation is fairly tenous; my experience of tenuous situations is that throwing new candidates for Kingship into them rarely improves them. On the other hand, my experience of Russandol is that throwing him into situations reliably does improve them. On the third hand-" - he borrows one of Irissë's for emphasis - "the House of Fëanor is an exhausting, internally divided meatgrinder and were it remotely in my power I would keep a politically important convalescent very far away from them. And on the fourth hand, we have a few grievances which Macalaurë has been ducking on the grounds he's really more of a regent.

So the questions I have are - is he well enough to defend himself, is he well enough that he'd be in charge, is he well enough to answer for the wrongs that were done to us, and does he expect our fealty?"

"In my estimation? No, no, no, and I'm not sure he's even well enough to notice your fealty if you gave it. That may change as he recovers, of course."

"Then it is my sincere recommendation that you not send him across the lake. We have better houses here, we have healers specifically familiar with extended starvation - thanks to them - and there will be no confusion about who is giving orders on the Feanorian side while Russandol is too sick to avoid being used. Or keep him in your metal mount, and let us aid him. I think better of my cousins than almost anyone on this shore, and yet - did Macalaurë ask you to do this?"

"No, it just seemed like a good idea when I noticed there was a prisoner chained to the cliff."

"It was a very good idea. Sending him home, though, might be a very bad one."

"I am prepared to trust you on this. ...Also, if you're all still starving, I have some travel rations with me which you may try if you like. I don't recommend them to anyone who isn't starving, as they are unpleasant in nearly every way food can be unpleasant and I don't yet know whether the food needs of Elves and Men are similar."

"I'd be interested in seeing them, at least. Thank you. I'll get everyone who might be capable of assisting Russandol. My cousin's people can remove themselves to their side of the lake as they see fit." He raises an eyebrow at Irissë. "You can communicate that we'd be delighted were they to swim, though."

"Thank you. Is there such a thing as a boat with which I might approach my shuttle again? I'm not very buoyant in this armour, and neither is the crate of travel rations."

"If anyone in either host was capable of building boats,a great deal of trouble would have been avoided," Irissë says. 

"We can," Findekáno says, "but it'll take some time."