They ask Menegroth for orders and then they open fire on every tree, bush, and blade of grass in the region.

After a minute they stop.

They do not go and get it. They do, since they are after all Elves, sigh and stare longingly.

The trees, bushes, and blades of grass react appropriately to this unnecessary violence, i.e. they don't do anything because they're plants.

The crown sits there. The jewels shine.

It's obviously a trap.

But it's such a pretty one.

The King announces that he's coming to the border to take a look.

The crown continues to sit there. The jewels continue to shine. They're so beautiful, aren't they?

Ten thousand troops arrive at the border. The King stops well short of it and takes a look. The Queen stops with him and does more than that. 

It is not an illusion, she announces after a moment. 

A woman fades into view, standing well back from the crown.

She, too, is surpassingly beautiful. She, too, is real. She stands straight and tall, utterly expressionless, and breathes quickly and shallowly like someone suffocating or in great pain.

The King goes utterly still.

The Queen stops operating her physical form entirely.

Not an illusion, she does muster after a minute. Some evil of the Enemy's, but real.

The woman is of course the perfect image of their daughter.

"Do you know the story of this crown?" asks the woman. Her voice, like her body, is identical to their daughter's but being used very differently.

We will not heed the lies of the Enemy, Melian says firmly.

"A sound strategy," says the stranger. "I did serve him once. Recently I came upon an opportunity to stop."

She smiles slightly. There is little that is pleasant about her smile.

"This I now swear," she says, "before Eru, before Manwë and Varda, before any other Power great or small who cares to listen. Melkor, whom you know as the Enemy, coerced an oath of service from me when I was a child barely old enough to speak. Never again will I allow that oath to compel me in word, thought, or deed. If my will is not free, then I shall go on without it."

Everyone stands there, stunned, horrified.

"I stole his crown and walked here from Angband in direct contravention of that previous oath," she says, a little distantly. "I'm not unprepared. But it is worse than I expected."

Swearing conflicting oaths puts you in constant psychological agony, so severe most people cannot do anything but beg for death.

Not an illusion, Melian says for the third time. The oath was genuine.

"He misses his crown and I don't anticipate you will like what happens if he gets it back," she adds. "I don't have the means to keep it out of his hands without help."

"I think we require more explanation of this situation than that," says the King.

"Where would you like me to start?"

"Your form. Explain it."

"The Enemy decided to make a copy of your daughter, because he thought I might turn out to have interesting powers and because he wished to be cruel to you. He never told me how he managed it, but I believe I represent a significant investment of resources and after what I just did I don't expect him to risk trying it again."

"When did this happen? How old are you?"

"Forty years ago, just after his return to this continent."

"What prompted you to come here now? Why do you oppose him? If you swore as you say, why are you even able to talk?"

"An unknown force descended on Angband and smashed the whole fortress to pieces. Melkor entrusted me with the repair of the crown. I decided I wasn't ever going to see a better opportunity to betray him. I oppose him because he is horrible. I am still able to talk because I have an immense capacity to endure suffering and despair."

"And what do you want?"

"My goal is the defeat of Melkor. Towards that end I would like to entrust the Silmarils to you until such time as they can safely be returned to their rightful owners, from whom Melkor stole them by murder and deceit; I think you have the best available chance of successfully defending them from him."

They're so pretty.

"What even are they?"

"The last remnant of the light of the Trees of Valinor, wrought there by Curufinwë Fëanáro of the Noldor while the Trees still shone."

"Can you swear that the Enemy didn't send you, that they're not a danger to us within our walls..."

"I swear that everything I have said to you is true, that the Enemy did not send me and will likely try to kill me as soon as he finds out where I am, and that the Silmarils themselves are no danger to you although if you let it be known that you have them it will bring more of the Enemy's attention on you than you might like."

The King cautiously motions some people forward to retrieve them.

The counterfeit princess stands still and watches.

"I apologize for my existence," she adds after a moment. "I know it was intended to cause you pain."

"What are you planning to do now?" the King says after a minute.

"I don't know," she says. "It seems a waste to die when there is still so much I could accomplish, but I can't do much without help and I don't expect to be able to find help."

"Most people who swear contradicting oaths seek out their deaths as quickly as they can."

"I know," she says. "I don't plan to do that until I run out of ways to be useful to the cause of defeating Melkor."

"I see,

The goal you've set yourself may not be possible to achieve."

"I don't see that as a good reason not to try. And an unknown force did show up out of nowhere and level Angband. If I knew more about whoever did that I would be trying to ally myself with them."

"...that was unknown to us until you mentioned it and still seems likelier to be a trick or trap. When did it occur?"

"A few days ago. It was not a trick or trap of the Enemy's."

The newcomers, Melian says. The Valar did not tell us of their coming.

"I would not expect the Noldor to be able to level Angband so soon, but the unknown force that leveled Angband did also rescue Sauron's favourite prisoner, who was a Noldo..."

"Perhaps they will visit and explain themselves," says the King. "All are welcome in Doriath's borders who swear to do no harm to anyone within them and convey nothing to the Enemy."

"...I do not want to cause you to suffer, and I suspect that my presence would cause you to suffer, but if I stayed in Doriath I could avoid dying while considering what to do next."

"If I have another daughter and what she desires is to see the Enemy defeated before she seeks Mandos' healing, she should come home."

"That... seems like an accurate description," she says.

"So your oath not to harm anyone in Doriath, or share our secrets with the Enemy, or bring those things about..."

"Oaths I make about my future conduct are logically meaningless because I would lose nothing in swearing not to be bound by them afterward," she points out. "I'll swear them anyway, if you want. I prefer not to harm anyone or share anyone's secrets with the Enemy."

The King and Queen confer. "Perhaps it's best we just keep you under guard. You may come in."

So she comes in.

It finally occurs to her to say, "My name is Shirask."

"I am not sure how much you would have been told about us," the King says. "Elu."

"I have been told a lot of things. I am very good at using information to find out more information."

He starts walking. The guards melt into the forest. It's a stunningly pretty forest.

"Your forest is very well-maintained," she says.

"It knows us and loves us," Melian says. She has not pulled herself together; she looks like she's made of stone, her lips don't move when she speaks, and she's gliding rather than walking.

"It is a good forest and you've done well with it."

"What kinds of - things - do you need? Here?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you eat, where do you most comfortably sleep, what do you prefer to wear, are there things we can do for the pain - with ordinarily oaths confinement helps with that, I don't know if it'd do anything for contradicting ones..."

"There is nothing you can do for the pain. I find that comforting, actually, it's logically impossible to torture me if the extent of my suffering cannot be affected by any means and that is a good thing to know when one has recently angered Melkor. I sleep best in seclusion. I am not sure whether I have preferences about food or clothing."

"Okay.

Do you want to meet your sister."

"I don't know." Pause. "Does she want to meet me?"

"Very much so."

"Then yes."

They keep walking. Birds chirp in the forest. Streams bubble merrily.

It is a very well-put-together forest. She said that already. She can't think of anything else to say.

Conflicting oaths is an abstractly fascinating state of being. She doesn't have willpower anymore. There is no feeling there, no feeling anywhere in her mind except intense suffering. But she can still do things. She just has to - approach the problem from a different angle. Hauling the crown here from Angband was good practice; willpower wasn't the optimal strategy there either, although it still existed. In a way, her entire life has been good practice. Just as she once constructed a version of herself who had no morals, now she constructs a version of herself who still has the capacity to form preferences and act on them.

And they reach the wide meadow outside Menegroth, the bridge across the river, the trees reaching far up overhead.

It's a very beautiful meadow and bridge and so on. Shirask would like to smile at it. She can't feel joy anymore. She thinks about this, as they cross the meadow. Even before she destroyed all of her emotions, her smiles were not normally expressions of joy as such. More like despair filtered through her sense of humour. She has plenty of despair available, and her sense of humour still seems to be operative.

By the time they reach the bridge, she has successfully produced a smile, a much nicer one than the one she wore when she made her oath at the border. She directs it at the scenery.

They are appropriately flattered to see her smile.

And then someone emerges from the entrance to Menegroth, flanked of course by more guards.

They look exactly alike.

Shirask does not know what to say.

"Welcome to Menegroth!"

"Thank you," she says. "Menegroth is very beautiful."

"Yep! Are you okay?"

What kind of a question is that.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"...do you need a hug?"

"... I don't know."

"...okay."

"Was that the wrong response?"

"No? It's just, 'I don't know if I want a hug' is the sort of thing that makes me want to hug someone, but you can't hug people without asking. I'm really glad to meet you."

"I can't imagine why you would be glad to meet me, but it is good that you are."

"You're my sister, why wouldn't I be happy to meet you?"

"Because my existence implies a great many unpleasant things and my presence serves as a reminder of those things?"

"I am sad that the Enemy had you and tortured you, but that was true before I met you, too. It's good you exist and bad he had you and good I met you."

"He didn't actually torture me very frequently. Why is it good that I exist?"

"...do you not think it's good you exist?"

"...I think it's useful that I exist. But I don't know if it can be good. I was created out of evil and used for evil and now I am going to suffer indescribably forever. I don't regret suffering indescribably forever if it makes Melkor's defeat more likely, but I do think it makes describing my existence as 'good' something of a stretch."

"Why are you going to suffer indescribably forever?"

"...Did no one tell you that I'm under conflicting oaths? Perhaps that explains why you were glad to meet me."

"No they said that but surely Eru won't just let you suffer forever. Or the Valar will be able to fix it."

"Eru created oaths and Fate. Presumably he knew all along that this was going to happen. I have not been experiencing conflicting oaths for very long and I am already sure that it was an unforgivable wrong for Eru to make them possible. I have no expectation that he will have been nice enough to make them fixable as well."

"We'll think of something."

"...Thank you," she says. "I don't think it will work, and I don't want you to try until after Melkor is defeated in case the solution makes me vulnerable to torture again. But thank you. I think that you are a good person."

"I don't think I understand how being vulnerable to torture is worse than being constantly tortured. But okay."

"I suppose the difference is fear."

"The Enemy can't get to you here anyway."

"I am sure it will eventually be strategically useful for me to leave. So I will. If I were not willing to sacrifice my comfort for strategic gains, I would have refused the first time I was ordered to commit an atrocity and I would not be here. But I prefer being in a situation where fear is not conceptually relevant to my life. Nothing can happen to me that is worse than what I am currently experiencing, so I cannot be threatened or coerced." She pauses thoughtfully, then adds, "And I always found it very satisfying when something caused Sauron frustration, and I expect being completely unable to hurt me will cause Sauron immense frustration, if we ever meet again."

"You can't leave. Not while it's still dangerous out there, even if there's no such thing as danger for you really."

"I can't?"

"No! The Enemy's looking for you, and we've only just found you, and now you know where Menegroth is..."

"I was not expecting to leave soon," she clarifies. "I just do not think that staying in Doriath forever will turn out to be the best way for me to bring about the defeat of Melkor."

"That's not the only thing that's important. Keeping people safe in the meantime matters too."

"Yes. But keeping people safe for a very long time and then eventually failing to continue keeping them safe because Melkor has conquered the world would be... good but not sufficient."

"I know. We won't let that happen."

"Good."

"Nothing helps?"

"With my indescribable suffering? No. Nothing helps."

"Okay. I kind of want to act like you're not suffering indescribably, if nothing I do is going to matter anyway. Is that okay?"

"Yes."

"It's really nice to meet you! Can I show you Menegroth? It's really pretty."

"Yes, I would like that."

"Thank you! These are our escort, because Mum and Dad are extremely paranoid, they mean well though, I try to be patient. Can I hold your hand?"

"Yes."

She takes her hand. "I always wanted a sister. How old are you?"

"About four decades."

"Aww. You should pick a day so we can have birthday parties."

"When do you think it should be?"

"If I got to pick my birthday I think I'd go for the spring, and a day that I liked."

"It seems thematic to make it today but I am not sure if that would be appropriate."

"Awww, that's a great idea. Yeah. Let's do that."

"Okay. Then it is my birthday today."

"Happy birthday. Can I sing?"

"Yes."

She sings. Beautifully.

Shirask thinks about her complete inability to appreciate her sister's singing, and this is awful enough on the right wavelengths to get her to actually laugh.

Oh, good.

It's satisfying, in a certain way, to be able to produce the right reactions even if she can't use the right feelings to generate them.

She walks her through Menegroth. They're surrounded by guards. She points out everything and explains it. "How do you speak our language?"

"Sauron taught me. Sauron taught me most of my practical skills," she says.

"But why would that even be a practical skill?"

"Languages are useful. I know the newcomers' language too."

"Really? Do you know anything else about them? I suppose things the Enemy says might not be useful..."

"I have plenty of information but I am not yet sure which of it would be useful to share."

"We don't know anything about them except that the Valar didn't send them."

"The Enemy did a lot of unpleasant things to them and then gloated about it," says Shirask.

"We should probably know a bit more than that."

"Yes, I agree."

"Do you know why they're here and what they want? And how they smashed Angband?"

"Yes, yes, and no," she says. "I could tell you the whole story, but I expect parts of it will be upsetting and I don't know precisely which parts and I don't know which of them are too important to leave out despite being upsetting."

"I think everything's too important to leave out."

"Then we should find somewhere very beautiful to sit down so I can collect my thoughts and you can be somewhere very beautiful when you hear all the upsetting things."

"That's thoughtful of you."

They find a place to sit down.

"I prefer not to upset you but I also prefer to give you information that you want. So I should make sure to mitigate the upsetting nature of the information by other means."

"That's thoughtful of you, like I said. Thanks."

Shirask sits and collects her thoughts.

This takes a few minutes.

"I will begin by explaining the history of the creator of the Silmarils," she says at last. "When Finwë brought the Noldor to Valinor, they founded a city, Tirion, where he married another of the Noldor, Míriel Therindë, and had a child, Curufinwë Fëanáro. Shortly afterward, Míriel died and chose not to return to life. I have no explanation for this, but I am inclined to rule out Melkor as a cause because if it were his fault I would expect to have noticed. Finwë subsequently married again, to Indis of the Vanyar, and they had four children: Findis, Nolofinwë Arakáno, Írimë Lalwendë, and Arafinwë Ingalaurë. I am told, and have no reason to disbelieve, that the prince Curufinwë was unhappy about this development and disliked Indis and her children."

"Okay."

"Curufinwë Fëanáro demonstrated exceptional skill in every craft or discipline he learned. He married very young, to Nerdanel, a sculptor, and they had seven children: Nelyafinwë Maitimo, Canafinwë Macalaurë, Turkafinwë Tyelcormo, Curufinwë Atarinkë, Morifinwë Carnistir, and the twins Pityafinwë Ambarussa and Telufinwë Umbarto, also called Ambarussa."

She pauses for a moment, thoughtfully.

"Some time later, Nolofinwë Arakáno married Anairë, a Noldo about whom I know very little, and they had four children: Findekáno, Turukáno, Írissë, and Arakáno. Arafinwë Ingalaurë married Eärwen, daughter of Olwë King of the Teleri, and they too had four children: Findaráto Ingoldo, Angaráto Angamaitë, Ambaráto Aikanáro, and Artanis Nerwen Alatáriel. It occurs to me that I have heard full names for most of the men but comparatively few of the women in this story, and I am not sure why that is, although the choice of the Noldorin royal family to have large numbers of mostly male children may be a contributing factor."

"There's no way I'm going to remember all those funny names, but okay."

"I have always liked knowing things, and I memorize most information I hear. If you become confused about who someone is, you can ask me to clarify. So. Around the time that the last of Finwë's grandchildren were being born and growing up, the Valar tried and pardoned Melkor for his crimes and allowed him to live among the Noldor on parole. He established a repentant persona and then spent his time nurturing the developing rift between the two branches of Finwë's family. Many people were suspicious of him, but he was both subtle and persistent."

"He told you all of this?"

"Much of it, yes. Some I overheard, or pieced together indirectly from things said to or near me."

"All right. So he made the newcomers dislike each other."

"Yes. It took him a long time, which I think speaks to the newcomers' strength of character."

"That seems like a bit of a stretch, but okay."

"I observe that you have never met Melkor."

"I am just pretty sure you couldn't talk me into not trusting my own family. I trust you."

"... You do? Why?"

"Am I wrong?"

"Your conclusions are not wrong. I do not know if your reasoning is wrong because I don't know what it is."

"You're my sister. You're sort of me. You haven't done anything wrong. So you're trustworthy."

"...I grew up in the service of Melkor," Shirask reminds her. "I have done wrong things."

"You said. But he made you, it doesn't count. It's not like you did it willingly."

"That is true. But I did have choices. I chose to wait as long as I did to betray him, even though waiting involved doing wrong things, because I wanted to damage his ability to do evil as much as I possibly could."

"That sounds like it makes you more trustworthy, not less."

"I think that's a valid perspective," she says. "But I also think that if I had been born a different person, one who was more easily turned to evil, you would not be well served by your instinct to trust your family."

"But you're me. If I were more easily turned to evil I could just as easily also be less trusting of family."

"I am as much you as if you had had a twin, I think. That is different from being as much you as if you had been copied with your personality included."

"Okay. Well, you're trustworthy and I trust you. So it works."

"I am trustworthy and you do trust me... and there is no direct benefit to worrying about how easily you trust me because there isn't another of me for you to wrongly trust... but I think I am worried anyway."

"I feel kind of good about you worrying about me, but I really think it's okay."

She smiles slightly. "Why do you feel good about me worrying about you?"

"Usually people worry about someone because they care about them."

"I... it would be imprecise to say I care about you," she says. "I can't directly care about things, or want things, or feel things, the way my mind works now. But I can construct a version of myself who has no such impairments, and do what she would do, and that works very well for practical purposes. And that person does care about you. She cares about you very much. So in a sense, I do as well."

"I'm glad you have something that works."

"It's very useful. I prefer being able to do things over not being able to do things."

"So when you worry, is that constructing a model that worries? Or worrying and then constructing a model to figure out what it is you are worried about?"

"More like the first one. The model is always active. Worrying about you is partly a matter of my own direct thoughts and partly a matter of imaginary emotions accessed through the model."

"I don't think I'm the worrying one."

"What do you mean?"

"You're in unimaginable agony? And I'm safe and happy and a princess?"

"Oh." She smiles. "Yes, that's true. But I think that makes it more reasonable to worry about you, because you have things to lose, and I don't."

"That would mean that the happier someone is the more you should worry for them, and I don't think that's true."

"I don't think so, necessarily. The worrying about you that I and my reconstructed emotions are doing is about the possibility that something might happen to make you less happy. It is not possible to make me less happy. If worrying is about how secure someone is in their happiness, and I don't have any happiness to be secure in, then it's logically consistent to worry more about you than me but perhaps worry even more than that about some other person who is both less happy and less safe than you."

"Are you sure there's no way to fix it?"

"It seems very unlikely. Not impossible, but very unlikely."

"Okay. Sorry, I interrupted your story."

"It is fine," she says. "If I believed it urgent that you hear the story I would tell it urgently. Should I continue?"

"Please!"

"I was telling you about what Melkor did with his time in Valinor," she says. "He encouraged strife and unrest. He encouraged and aided the forging of swords, and created an atmosphere of distrust so that people would carry them, using lies and illusions and rumours and subtle manipulation. It was approximately during this time that Curufinwë Fëanáro created the Silmarils. It's my understanding that he had an ambition to establish an independent settlement of Noldor outside Valinor. My picture of the surrounding politics is incomplete but it seems to have been a divisive notion."

"Huh. The Valar would not have thought that wise, I don't think."

"I think it is a very reasonable ambition to have. But I am sure my perspective differs from theirs."

"What was wrong with Valinor?"

"I know that one of the motivations involved was concern for the fate of Men because Melkor incited that one by giving extravagantly upsetting talks about all the most concerning Men-related facts he could come up with. For the rest, I can mostly only speculate, and speculation about other people's motives is not my area of expertise. But... I respect the desire to become independent of even a well-run paradise. Independence is a worthwhile aim."

"They sure have a dreadful sense of timing, though."

"Do they?"

"Well. If they levelled Angband, maybe not. But distracting the Valar right after Melkor provoked a war seems unwise."

"Hmm. I am not sure whether or not they could have known that they would be able to level Angband. My instinct is that they did not, but my information is patchy. I should try to tell it in order. The ongoing conflicts gradually escalated, and eventually the conflicting parties held a conference to try to work out their differences, and Melkor planted false evidence that someone would try to do violence to Curufinwë Fëanáro at the conference, so Curufinwë Fëanáro showed up to it armed and armoured, and heard Nolofinwë Arakáno telling Finwë that two loyal sons yet remained to him, and drew his sword and openly threatened to use it if Nolofinwë Arakáno did not desist, which seems to me a counterproductive impulse. And indeed it got Curufinwë Fëanáro exiled from Tirion. He went away and founded another city and half of Tirion followed him, Finwë included, leaving Nolofinwë Arakáno regent in Tirion, and then I don't know what happened until the point at which Melkor brought an abomination from beyond the Void into Valinor to destroy the Trees. I can't see what could be gained strategically from never talking about that entire interval even to his own loyal subordinates, so I can only conclude that Melkor had unfathomable personal reasons for not discussing it."

"He drew a sword on his brother because Melkor implied someone would try something? That's terrifying."

"It doesn't seem terrifying to me. But then I'm used to a context where it's normal for unhappy people to become violent. From my perspective he showed unusual restraint."

"Well, he's an Elf, you've been around orcs. I'm sure orcs would do something awful."

"And yet," says Shirask, "the person who arranged the circumstances of that conference is the same person who arranged the nature of orcs."

"Sure, but he raised them from childhood for many generations. You were raised by him yourself and wouldn't do something like that."

"I will never condemn anyone for being less able to resist evil than I am. My ability to resist evil is exceptional and should not be a comparison point."

"Okay, but I'm condemning a prince raised in Valinor who threatens to murder his siblings even if Melkor prodded him."

"That is much more reasonable," says Shirask. "So, Curufinwë Fëanáro founded the city of Formenos, and some time passed during which I don't know what happened, and Melkor went away to fetch an abomination from beyond the Void and then returned with her to destroy the Trees and raze Formenos and murder Finwë and steal the Silmarils. Curufinwë Fëanáro was not in the city at the time. It was Melkor's wish that he be utterly devastated by grief and anger."

"Since he's murderous even without a reason."

"That seems inaccurate but maybe I'm not understanding what you mean," she says.

"Fëanáro is a terrible person, from everything you've said. So obviously making him even angrier and more inclined to act out helps the Enemy."

"I don't think of him as a terrible person but it's possible I have low standards."

"Elves don't behave themselves the way you've described. We're better than that."

"I'm still more inclined to blame Melkor. But I would not like to conduct experiments about how many centuries of Melkor's personal attention are required before the average Elf turns to violence. Then again, do the prisoners of Angband count?"

"...different kind of pressure. And they're hurting people who'd be hurt anyway."

"Hmm?"

"If an Elf in Valinor murders someone, they're introducing violence. That person would otherwise have lived forever. If an Elf in Angband murders someone..."

"Oh, yes, I see. Elves in Angband also sometimes commit imaginary murder which is subjectively indistinguishable from the real thing, against imaginary people also subjectively indistinguishable from the real thing who are not imagined to be in Angband."

"...why?"

"Because it amuses Melkor to reward them for imaginary murder during false escapes and then release them to go commit real murder in the belief that this escape must also be false."

"No, I mean, why would they do it?"

"Sometimes the imaginary Elves around them shift abruptly into imaginary orcs, or real ones."

"That's - pretty awful."

"Yes."

"We don't usually let ex-prisoners in because they sometimes go crazy and kill everyone."

"I imagine that the pattern I just described is the reason why they do that."

"Guess it's better than the Enemy having mind control, which is what we thought was going on."

"As far as I'm aware he does not technically have mind control, but the ability to induce hallucinations of that kind can be put to similar effect."

"I bet."

"Some people cannot be induced to commit any imaginary murders. Sauron's favourite prisoner never did as far as I know, and I'd expect to know," she adds. "But I've gotten out of order. I apologize."

"Melkor destroyed Valinor and ran away. He was hoping that'd make the angry Noldo more angry."

"Well, he only destroyed parts of Valinor, but yes. It worked. The angry Noldo became extremely angry. He took a reckless oath to retrieve the Silmarils at any cost from whoever might withhold them, and his seven children took it with him, and then he incited many of the other Noldor to follow him to Beleriand immediately in order to try as hard as they could to defeat or at minimum inconvenience Melkor, which is also a motivation I can respect. Meanwhile, Melkor reclaimed Angband and created me."

"And so that's why the newcomers showed. They swore an oath to retrieve their jewelry at any cost? That's incredibly stupid."

"The powerful magical artifacts which were the angry Noldo's life's work and the only means for the Noldor to survive outside Valinor in the long term, yes, that jewelry. It's still stupid but more understandable given the full context. Also it's likely that they didn't realistically expect anyone to be able to get them away from Melkor. I wouldn't have taken them away from Melkor under the circumstances except that Melkor found them useful to have around, and it is my hope that without them he will be in disarray for long enough that the unknown force can come back and damage him some more."

"Why'd he find them useful, what do they do?"

"Preserve things. Amplify things. Very generally and powerfully."

"So the angry Noldo's gonna want them back."

"His family will. The angry Noldo himself is dead and, as far as I understand the situation, indefinitely forbidden to return to life."

"It takes a lot to provoke the Valar to that much anger."

"I am sure they were not in the best of moods when he did whatever he did that brought that sentence upon him. I am not well acquainted with the details of the case. Here are the facts of which I am certain: Three groups of Noldor intended to depart Valinor in hasty pursuit of Melkor, associated respectively with Finwë's three sons. The angry Noldo's host arrived first, very quickly, on the swan-ships of the Teleri, which they then burned. They killed an immense number of orcs, and then the angry Noldo tried to duel multiple Balrogs and died. Melkor captured the angry Noldo's eldest son using a false offer of parley and he became Sauron's favourite prisoner. What remained of their host settled by Lake Mithrim. Much more recently, Nolofinwë Arakáno's host arrived, on foot, over the land bridge called the Ice-Fangs, many of them dead or dying of cold and starvation, barely on speaking terms with the first group. The third seems to have stayed behind entirely. Both groups of Noldor in Beleriand are generally understood to be operating under a curse of fate imposed by the Valar, and from what I've heard the terms of the curse may include failing in their campaign against Melkor, in which case it's very interesting that someone apparently aligned with Noldorin interests succeeded in leveling Angband."

"Huh. 

Well, easy to guess why the second group wasn't on good terms with the first group, if the first group lit the ships on fire."

"If the Valar really did curse the Noldor to fail against Melkor, then whatever the Noldor did to incur their wrath, I am deeply unimpressed with their priorities. But very intrigued by the apparent success of the Noldor so far."

"I don't think the Valar'd do that. Maybe to fail unless they repented, or something."

"I don't know the exact terms of the curse. If I meet a Noldo and have the opportunity, I will ask."

"And the next thing that happened after that was levelling Angband?"

"Approximately, yes. I know a few more things about the unknown force. A new light shone in the sky very briefly. Melkor sent some orcs and a Balrog to investigate the site of its apparent landing, near the lake where the Noldor are staying. None of them came back. Then a few days later, a flying metal thing approached Angband at astonishing speed, tore the fortress apart in minutes using mysterious powers the likes of which I've never seen, resisted all Melkor's attempts to shake it out of the air, killed several Balrogs and gravely injured many more, stole Sauron's favourite prisoner from the cliffside where he was hanging, and left as quickly as it had arrived. I was delighted beyond measure."

"I can imagine! That's amazing! The Noldor can't have done it - so what possibly -"

"I do not know. It was entirely unprecedented."

"How'd the Enemy react?"

"He was very upset. And he gave me his crown to repair. After that I imagine he was even more upset but I did not linger to find out."

"Why'd he give you his crown?"

"He trusted me, and had very few people left who could repair it for him, and was too busy having a tantrum to do it himself."

"So aside from being evil he's kind of awful?"

"I'm not sure what you mean by that exactly."

"Like, there are evil people who are good to those in their command, or strategic about being evil. He doesn't sound like either of those things."

"He certainly has a strategy and it is often a successful one, but evil is definitely his goal as well as his method of achieving it. He is not good to those in his command and not infallible."

"Well, that's good."

"Yes. If he were infallible I would have a problem."

"And the whole world would have an even worse one."

"That too."

"So the newcomers are going to want their Silmarils back."

"Yes," Shirask agrees.

"But they're really powerful and the newcomers can't defend them."

"I don't have solid information on the newcomers' capacity to defend them. It may be that the newcomers are not only able to defend them but will find them useful to the project of defeating Melkor, in which case we should give them to the newcomers as soon as we find that out. Right now, the newcomers do not know the Silmarils are here, and this is my preferred state of affairs because if they find out the Silmarils are here they will have to ask for them back, and if we don't give them back we will have a problem, and if we do give them back and the newcomers turn out to be unable to defend them we will have another, different problem."

"Secret Silmarils until we learn more about the newcomers, got it."

"It is also useful to have Melkor at the very least uncertain about where I have taken the Silmarils, even if it's plausible that he might guess," she adds. "There are other places I could have taken them. I was considering Valinor, or the bottom of the ocean. So keeping them secret serves multiple purposes."

"How were you imagining you'd get to Valinor?"

"The practical problems with that approach were one reason I discarded it. But I expect I could have managed if I'd set my mind to it."

"They'd have killed you the minute you got there, too."

"Yes, that was another reason. I don't want to die while I still have things to do."

"What things are you planning on doing?"

"I don't know yet. It depends substantially on what I find out about the newcomers."

"And how are you planning to find out anything about them?"

"I don't know yet. I am sure opportunities will arise."

"Maybe they'll send an emissary."

"Maybe they will. We'll see."

"Do you think they could kill the Enemy? With whatever it is they used to destroy Angband?"

"I don't know whether killing the Enemy is possible. If it is, the newcomers seem to have the best chance at it."

"Or the Valar. If they're coming."

"The newcomers are strongly motivated to kill Melkor. The Valar have not shown themselves inclined to do so at any past opportunity. It may be that they have changed their minds. I'll believe that when I see it."

"Fair enough. But strongly motivated and still just people - only how'd they level Angband -"

"The flying metal thing was able to deploy immense amounts of physical force through no discernible physical or magical mechanism. Anything caught in its weapon's line of effect was crushed. Some of the Balrogs were crushed to death. I have no explanation for how this was possible or how the Noldor in particular were able to do it. If it was in fact the Noldor and not some previously-unknown allied interest. Preliminary reports did suggest that the new light in the sky landed near the Noldor and was well on its way to making friends. 'Unknown, immensely powerful sky beings' is not a satisfying explanation, however."

"I should say.

Where did Melkor get his abomination beyond the Void that he used to help wreck Valinor?"

"From beyond the Void, one presumes. He didn't see fit to explain her to me in detail. She took the form of an enormous spider, that much I do know."

"So maybe the other side got something from beyond the Void too."

"Perhaps they did. That would certainly be interesting."

"I wish there were a way to learn other than waiting."

"I could go and ask. But that would be reckless."

"They might not kill you. You might incite the Enemy to attack them, I guess."

"Yes. And the Enemy might capture me, which would be inconvenient."

"So probably better to stay here. I'll ask my father about sending an emissary."

Shirask smiles.

"I think I have enough evidence to conclude that you are a good sister," she says.

"You're the best sister ever!"

She starts laughing rather helplessly.

Well, that's something that's not unspeakable agony.

In a manner of speaking, yes.

(She can't imagine how she got ahead of all the sisters both real and hypothetical who have never committed any atrocities, who are capable of feeling love, who were not created to bring ruin to their families... at least Lúthien evidently hasn't yet figured out that Shirask's sense of humour is irredeemably awful.)

Eventually, she manages, "Thank you."

"You're welcome!"

"I am bewildered by your reasoning, but endeared by your conclusions."

"As long as I'm right, what does it matter?"

"I like to understand why people think the way they do. I usually don't, but I like to."

"Okay. I'm happy to help explain why I think the way I do. You're my sister, so obviously you have the tremendous advantage over all possible sisters of existing. And that you're good and tragic and funny just helps."

"There is a logic there," she acknowledges. "An odd one but not a wrong one. Thank you for explaining."

"Sure. Is that everything we should know?"

"I think so. If something else that you should know occurs to me, I'll tell you."

"It'd be useful to know things like how many the Enemy's forces are, what his goals are, how directly he commands the orcs, why he doesn't leave Angband himself..."

"Approximately one million orcs. Formerly forty Balrogs, now twenty-eight. One Sauron. Five assorted Maiar who don't consider themselves allied with Melkor but are willing to trade favours. The orcs are all made to swear service to Melkor as children, and he often issues direct commands but rarely micromanages. Melkor's goals are the destruction of the Valar and ultimately of Eru, and in the meantime he is pleased to do miscellaneous evil as it comes to mind. He also wants to thwart Fate but was unmoved by my argument that if we wanted to thwart Fate above all else the only logical course of action would be to destroy ourselves and our faction so thoroughly that no one could reconstruct a threat of similar magnitude from the remains. He prefers to stay in Angband because he is investing his power very strongly there and excursions might draw unwanted attention from the Valar."

"Okay. That's a lot of orcs but otherwise not too bad."

"Sauron is a problem but he would be a much bigger problem if there were more than one of him."

"How so?"

"Well, I suppose that depends. Two of precisely Sauron would mean he could divide his attention between more projects and remain effective, which would be unfortunate for the rest of us but not an enormous disaster. Two powerful intelligent Melkor-aligned Maiar with different personalities could potentially compensate for each other's weaknesses, and that would be very bad."

"What are his weaknesses?"

"He's an Ainu, they have trouble adapting to sudden changes, I'm sure you've noticed. He's easily frustrated - well, I don't have many comparison points, perhaps I'm just totally unperturbable and he is perturbable to an ordinary degree, but when he is frustrated or off-balance or has recently suffered an injury to his pride or is generally not in complete control of the situation at hand he gets snappish and frantic and does ill-considered things. If I ever see him again I will taunt him about his total inability to ever hurt me again and it will be not only personally satisfying but also strategically useful."

"Good to know."

"I am glad to be useful to you."

"I expect there are other things it'd be strategically useful to know, but I can't think of them."

"We have time to consider the question."

"Especially if we're just waiting for the Noldor to send an emissary."

"Yes."

"Want to see more of Menegroth or anything? Want to borrow some of my clothes while we sew you your own?"

"Yes, I think I would rather borrow some of your clothes than continue wearing what I used to wear in Angband. My favourite colour is pale grey," she says.

"Ooooh, I've got lots in that! C'mon, let's go to my rooms!"

Shirask is - well. Shirask will never be happy again. But the imaginary Shirask who is still capable of having emotions is delighted to follow Lúthien to her rooms and look at her beautiful clothes.

She has so many of them and will talk while she shares them, about the fabrics and the dyes and the occasions she's worn them to.

It is the sort of thing that would be very pleasant if things could be pleasant. Shirask goes through the necessary internal circumlocutions to produce an appropriate smile. She tries various things on and settles eventually on an outfit that suits her particularly well.

"Thank you. This is very nice."

"You look great. Everyone'll be impressed."

"What is the benefit of impressing everyone?"

"They'll be happy and feel more at ease around you and smile at you and maybe do you favors?"

"That seems like a good set of benefits. What is impressive about borrowing your clothes?"

"You're prettier, and look more like one of us?"

"That does make sense. Thank you for explaining."

"You know a lot of things and also don't know a lot of things, it's kind of disconcerting."

"Yes. The things I know are the things it was useful for me to know, and the things I picked up on without help. Interpersonal matters are... difficult to pick up on without help. At least for me."

"I'm happy to explain them. What was it useful for you to know? What was he hoping to do with you?"

"I was meant to be a weapon, but then I turned out to be intelligent, dedicated, and very believably loyal. It's useful to give me information about the strategic situation in Beleriand because I can use it to make very accurate guesses about things we don't yet know. It's useful to teach me the principles of magical engineering and composition because I pick up on them very quickly and can do things like repair Melkor's crown and compose the stealth song I used to escape Angband with it. I am sure they regret that one now."

"What kind of weapon? Other than to make us sad?"

"One possible use for me would have been to capture you, learn how to impersonate you, then do that long enough to murder your father. I'm not sure I could have managed it, but it's possible, if you had ever left Doriath in order to be captured, and if I'd turned out to be good at pretending to be happy and innocent and kind. And you and I are an interestingly unique sort of creature, not exactly the same as an Elf but certainly not the same as a Maia, and I did manage to build a few unique magical advantages on that foundation. You're probably the only other person in the world who could successfully use my stealth song. But I hope you never have to, because it's very uncomfortable."

"Stealth and a song don't really seem to go together, no."

"It makes you not quite present, or not quite real. The main design challenge was in arranging to be present enough to move around and breathe but not present enough to have discernible effects on the world. The song I have is stable for as long as a day, and then I have to drop it because I no longer have enough air to sing."

"That's pretty impressive.

....I have really powerful happiness songs but I don't know if they'd make you feel happiness or not."

"...I don't expect them to. I'm not sure whether I want to test it."

"Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. I can start learning something that would help? Sleep? I could learn sleep."

"...Thank you," she says. "You are a good sister. I'm not sure if I want to get in the habit of sleeping so I don't have to be awake. It seems like it would make me less useful. Would a sleep song be useful to you in other contexts?"

"Yeah, I could use it to end battles and stuff too..."

"Then you could learn a sleep song and even if I didn't use it very often it would be worthwhile to have."

"I'll start. It'll take a while."

She nods. "Yes. These things do."

"I'm impressed you've got anything, if you're only forty."

"I started young and worked hard."

"And in secret?"

"No. An undetectable subordinate is a useful asset. I was encouraged."

"Angband does not sound much like how I imagined it."

"How did you imagine it?"

"I guess I thought Morgoth just mostly tortured prisoners. This is a lot more convoluted."

"He does do a lot of that. Not just prisoners, either. Anyone who annoys Sauron is generally made to regret it."

"What do they do all day, though? Normally?'

"Melkor is actually a very boring person, leaving aside how evil he is. He doesn't do very much other than sit on his throne and give orders. Sauron's favourite hobby is definitely torture, although I think he also managed to enjoy teaching me all of my practical skills. Lately he has been occupying himself with arranging for the first Men in Arda to worship Melkor and become werewolves. It might be strategically useful to put a stop to that, but I can't in good conscience advise that anyone pick a fight with Sauron."

"He's really powerful?"

"Yes. And if you lose a fight with Sauron and he kills you on the spot, that's the good outcome."

"I know that. But if everyone's too scared to fight him -"

"It's a problem, yes. If I knew more about the capabilities of the Noldor and their mysterious ally, I might go recommend to them that they pick a fight with Sauron, but," she shrugs.

"Mom can probably do it. I might be able to if I was stronger..."

"I could teach you some practical skills," says Shirask. "Both of us, with the stealth song, with weapons and training, with whatever else we can think of - we might be able to do something. But all things considered I think I would rather also have weapons capable of crushing Balrogs to death. So it is still a good idea to wait for the Noldorin emissary. And learning how to fight Sauron would be uncomfortable and fighting Sauron would be dangerous and you might prefer to be happy and safe. It is important to me that you are able to be happy and safe."

"I want to be strong enough to fight Sauron. If we could do it together I want to at least know how."

"Okay. Then I will help you with that."

"We should explain it to our parents in a way that doesn't make it sound dangerous, though."

"Then you should do all the talking. I am not skilled at making things sound less dangerous or at talking to—our parents."

"Okay, but - is it actually at all dangerous? Not fighting Sauron, I mean, just the learning how..."

"It's possible to be injured in the course of learning how to fight, yes."

"Like, moreso than in learning how to run between trees? I'm half-Maia, they don't keep me in a bubble..."

"How badly have you been injured in learning to run between trees?"

"I haven't been, I was good at it. Aren't we very difficult to injure?"

"Yes. I have been injured many times while learning to fight, and I am sure most of that can be blamed on Sauron's teaching style, but I don't know that all of it can."

"If I get hurt in a way I can't sing clear in a few minutes our parents will definitely freak out."

"Then we should be careful to minimize that possibility."

"Yeah. What do you want to do first?"

"I've never taught this before and I can hardly just copy Sauron's curriculum. I'll have to think about it."

"Why not copy Sauron's curriculum? Was he good at teaching?"

"He was good at teaching when he cared to be, but he was also Sauron. I do not want to do all the same things he did because it would be needlessly unpleasant for you that way. So I am not going to begin with teaching you evasion by attacking you repeatedly with no warning."

"I think you are underestimating how pleasant it's going to be not to feel useless."

"I might be. I still think there is a better way to teach you than 'copy everything Sauron did, even the awful things', and it is worth taking a few minutes to think of it."

"Okay."