Pop. "Men's settlement is torched, has been for some time. How long is it convenient for us to stay? It's spring now, they can get a crop going if I move them now, but otherwise I'd sooner wait another year, maybe bring small batches out in the meantime to work on the place."

"Are you confident there's nothing else out there that'll give them trouble? The city has beds for everyone; they have as long as they need."

"I can deal with orcs and Balrogs. What else does he have?"

"I saw Thuringwethil maybe three, four times? Half a dozen things like her. Who I saw. I was not, in the scheme Maiar use, there for all that long."

"So maybe I should stick around to see what else he sends after me," she sighs.

"Entirely up to you. Don't leave on our account; the city can accommodate these numbers and populations of Men don't grow that fast."

Nod. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he says, only a bit mechanically.

He smiles.

She smiles back, and then pops back home.

The repairs of the city are well underway.

Hey!

Hi! Guess who killed Gorthaur!

Oh, Eru. I'm so proud of you. How?

Learned to teleport. Am I allowed to teleport in and out of Doriath or is it too affecting-a-living-thing-y?

Come to my rooms. Until anyone notices you doing it they can't clarify whether it's allowed. And Mum's distracted. Probably with Gorthaur suddenly dying, actually.

How would that distract her? Pop.

I don't know. She tries to keep track of big things, and that's a big thing. I didn't know that we could die.

Well, he might not be technically dead, he might be something dead-like, but there was another Maia helping me keep track of him through his illusions and he couldn't sense him anymore. He's deader than he was the last time we fought.

I'm so proud of you.

Thanks.

And she bounds through the door into her rooms.

Hi!