"You have the healing magic. That counts for...quite a lot of diplomatic skill." Findekáno hesitates. "If you do go over there - I'd be very curious how they react to learning we're alive. There are a few people I don't think will be able to look me in the eye, which would be satisfying except that we're not going to come that close unless we're killing each other."

"How would you advise me to substitute healing magic for tact and patience?"

"Sounds like a viable plan."

"Uh huh. I should shovel snow or something. It's been - I'm very very grateful for everything you can do for us." That wasn't particularly coherent. He's feeling guilty and miserable and alone and the particular loathing that feels like the back of your mouth swelling closed and hopefully she'll forgive it next moonrise. Or not. If she's going to be doing that it's probably better if he avoids her.

"...All right."

There's a woman around Loki's height within earshot of the two of them; at that she waves Loki over. "So you're our miracle worker?"

"If that's what you want to call it."

"Irissë. I'm Findekáno's sister. He could have introduced us - what, did you ask which Feanorian to make friends with or something?"

"He suggested one of his own accord but it may have had the same effect."

"You can reliably cheer him up by talking about in which order you'd kill them. We're not going to. Somehow we're going to have to forgive them for something they'll never apologize for, because otherwise we lose the war. But it's fun to think about."

"Fantasizing about death is not my form of entertainment, but I am accustomed to being unusual."

"I promise you, there's a number of years spent watching everyone you love slowly starved to death, or quickly crushed to death, by someone you once trusted after which you'd start to find it appealing. Then again, you can save people. Maybe that changes it."

"Maybe it does."

"We're reorganizing the line - usually we have everyone in bad shape in patches between some people who are holding on, so there's people to make a rescue effort if a disaster happens. About half the deaths are a disaster, half the time someone's heart just stops. Now we're putting everyone in bad shape in the same area, so you can go through faster. Does it tire you out or anything?"

"No. I thought I was supposed to wait longer to see if the volunteer suddenly became mind-slaved or something?"

"Moving this many people takes some time, they won't let you near the host yet but I assume Dad started organizing this because he thinks you're legitimate. I think you're legitimate. If you were mind controlling Findekáno he wouldn't be -" she shakes her head. "He's damn good at this. He's saved hundreds of people, he barely sleeps, he barely eats, we would never have made it without him. Sometimes he even laughs. But I'm coping a hell of a lot better than him and I don't know why."

"I couldn't say."

"Well, mine is smaller, but there's some resemblance."

"Ours is shrinking quickly."

Nod.

"Do you need a place to rest? Rather deficient hospitality, with no food to offer, but warm tents buried in a snowdrift we can do."

"That would be more comfortable than sleeping in the open to be snowed on -" all night? is this even a day now with the silver thing? - "for hours. Thank you."

"Sure thing. My tent, this way. I share it with my aunt, but she's out helping reorganize people. Hey! Finno!" She doesn't noticeably raise her voice. "Can you help everyone who's still climbing the pass a mile back? The reorganization slowed that down, now we've got people waiting." She raises an eyebrow at Loki. "That's why I was looking for the two of you, actually. It's usually better to give him a minute when it seems like he might need it, because he'll never give himself one."