"How...and why...is your native tongue illegal."

"How is it enforced, you mean? There's a kingdom east of here, the one south of the spiders, that's secure, has enough food, and is safe. Its King has declared that it's closed to all of us, categorically, and also anyone who speaks Quenya or interacts with anyone speaking Quenya - our language. So if we speak it, those of our people who currently have leave to enter Doriath have to choose between losing the ability to see all their family and friends in Doriath, forever, or shunning us."

"Why?" she asks, sounding pained.

"Four hundred fifty years ago there was a battle in which the King's brother and we were on different sides."

"That sounds fantastically stupid and petty."

"I have for obvious reasons never met the man and cannot pass judgment."

"But you have to change your names? My name isn't different in any of the languages I speak."

"Elves seem to care more about that sort of thing than Men. Quenya and Thindarin names sound very different and lots of people wouldn't say my name or would feel awkward saying it if I didn't have a Thindarin one."

"...Would you be upset if I wanted to know your original one anyway? It...bothers me, people being forced to change something like that about themselves." She pauses. "I should definitely learn the dead twin's original name, if he never used the one you're using for him now."

You shouldn't ask that sort of thing aloud where people might be listening, puts them in an awkward position. His name is Telufinwë Ambarto. Mine was Turkafinwë Tyelcormo; I went by Tyelcormo.

I won't, then. Thank you.

"Anyway, want to have a look at the mountain range?"

"Oh, yes."

He smiles and leans back to watch her.

Over the course of a few hours the rocks blocking the path dissolve into sand, flow up the sides and along the bottom, and press down to make a firm, steady sandstone floor and walls.

And there's a pass through the mountains. He hasn't asked how magic is learned, because academic skills are just not ones he tends to pick up, but he may have to grit his teeth and ask someone to help him with this one.

It's a shame he doesn't ask her so she can explain just how not-academic it can be if you want it to.

"Done," she says finally. "You had a list, right? What was next on it?"

"Shall we waltz through there and bring a drought-ridden community some water for their fields? They're mortal so they're also probably dying of various things."

"Yes, and I should teach some of them magic so I don't have to waltz back in in a few decades to de-age them again. I'm honestly disturbed by how easy it is to do, why the hell does anyone in my world die of old age."

"Religious teaching that there's a happy afterlife? Lots of the Men here have that, I think."

"We have some of that, but there exist people who would welcome de-aging and aren't getting it. So far the least disturbing and most plausible option that's crossed my mind is that mages just don't usually want to bother running around altruistically saving peoples' lives."

"Can't they accept pay for it?"

"Yeah...I'm really not sure what was going on. And won't be able to find out until and unless I can teleport home, which even if killing the Enemy weren't more important I wouldn't want to try without my sister on hand in case I couldn't teleport back."

"Fair. Well, I bet this world will swiftly have no one in it age. Having Elves around really makes Men aware of the advantages. Hey, after we win, you can bring people from your world who aren't sure if they want to die, to convince them."

"Sounds like fun."