Oct 20, 2018 8:45 AM
galaxy of stars
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And Arda is now round. It's also still mostly uninhabitable.


She puts the continents back. They were perfectly nice continents, she doesn't have a quibble with their coastlines or anything.


The Elves are watching wonderingly.

"Now the hard part," her illusion comments.

She explains the oaths thing to the Tesseract. Soul stone?

Creepy personality. You'd hate each other. I'd have my hands full trying to keep it from eating you.

You don't have hands.

I have any hands I want out of all the hands that are or could be assembled. They go where I put them if I put them anywhere.

She doesn't argue the point. Mind?

Nearly as bad. You might get along with Time but it's definitely an awkward tool for the job unless you want to roll the whole place back.

No. No, I don't want that.

Power's just an amplifier or deamplifier, you could reduce the oaths in force but not clear them out.

Leaving Reality.

Yes. Reality will do the job and you can hold it long enough, but it's got this very black and white thinking problem, it won't necessarily be surgical about it.

Nonsurgical's fine if it's not safe to take a surgical option.

Hold out your other hand, then.

I don't have to go get it?

You'll get the hang of this any minute now.

You can reach across -

Who do you think sent you here?

I did speculate.

Good. Now hold out your hand.

And she does, and red splashes into her palm and sinks in and spirals up and she's a battleground of color and her teeth clench and her eyes clamp shut -

It hurts -

Yes, well, I like you. It tolerates you and this is toleration. You'll want your healing spell.

And she heals it as it bites through her armor like it's not there, passes through her arm like it is there and the Aether liquid container for the stone objects to that fact. And she heals. And she tells the stone what she wants. And it thinks the distinction between elves and orcs is not real. It will obey no such boundary -

"I'm not gonna be able to be too precise with this one," she gasps in a rush, "sorry," and now fate is not real oaths are not real -
Everybody feels that.

And now fate is not real and oaths are not real and Elves are -

- well. Nothing feels different until you try to reach for it and realize that it's missing. There was a plan, and now they've been sliced neatly away from it, and they can feel it, and there's a cry of mingled disbelief and dismay.
"Sorry - sorry - I can - hang on -" Deep breaths. - no, it's literally easier to just put air in and out of her lungs. Individual boundaries are real, right -

Real enough.

So she can undo that for individuals -

One at a time, yes.

She doesn't have to be only here, she can be anywhere, wherever there are elves to be found, they will all be able to hear her because she is right there -

"I can fix that for some people but not many - if anybody thinks they're, they're in the top -" oh fuck her arm - "hundred or so Elves needing that undone I can undo it."

There are in the end less than a hundred volunteers. They are lost and they are not happy but it's few people who feel that their grief and loss and confusion is the most desperate.

Well she can fix all of those then, one at a time but quickly

and then she wants the Aether not burrowing into her arm anymore, wants it somewhere else. She lets it go. She puts it back. There are slightly smoking holes in her armor, a few droplets of the "container" dribbling down her arm like too-red blood.

Deep breaths. (Blue ascends over red.)

You can reach just fine?

Easier than you can tilt your head.

She puts herself firmly out of Valar jurisdiction, floats in intergalactic space at home -

And is slightly, for a handful of purposes that definitely don't include Valar magic or that fucking kneeling thing, on Taniquetil.

Loki, says Manwë. He sounds surprised.


I finished my spell. Morgoth's dead. Also I took the liberty of sphereing your planet, I hope you don't mind.


Eru's will was that the planet be spherical.

That's why I thought you might not mind.


The war has - not taken its fated course, but has gone well, with little loss of life. The orcs are now free, and not in pain. You had no thought for my objections, but I have none.


Thank you. I have some (let's just be nice and polite, why not, she can kill any of these fuckers if she wants) requests about the dead. Which one of these is Mandos? She wants to be facing Mandos and that's a location, there he is. I sent you my friend. Did she make it?


She did. While oaths like that are in force all I can do is ensure they don't have the option of acting towards any of them, and are therefore not in pain.


That problem now having been solved, Loki says, it seems like there should be no trouble with restoring her and all the other dead orcs to life. I put the continents back, there should be room, but I can go find them a nice planet if that's a concern.


I cannot immediately assess how many of them by temperament or ancient grievances or learned hatreds will still seek Elves with enmity. Probably not none. If you find a nice planet for orcs I will consider how they can be returned to life.

She wants to be every so slightly standing on some empty habitable world not too near any of the war-torn parts of her galaxy, air and water and edible wildlife and no people -

Found a candidate.

Thank you. Your friend is here and you may take her there. I can see who else can safely and suitably be returned to life.

And now Vár is on the planet. And so is Loki, a little, enough to talk. "Hi."

(To Mandos: I'm happy to find planets for anyone else who could be best restored away from here.)

And Vár looks up at her in awe. "You did it."


"Yeah. Sorry it took me so long."


"Didn't feel very long. Was hard to keep track of time, really, but it - it feels like it was just yesterday, the day when I d-d-died..."


...Hug. "I'm sorry."


"It was okay. Didn't hurt. How's everyone else, are they okay?"

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