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"Of course. Just possibly very rude, I suppose, and very presumptuous. Everything is safe."

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"I mean, I think it's a little rude not to have mentioned this more explicitly when Lórien cornered me my first few days here, he had a good opportunity, like, 'by the way, there is a time-slidey effect throughout Valinor, would you like to opt out'."

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"Yes, he should have mentioned it."

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"So I just - go to Manwë and explain that this is very alarming and I would like my sense of time restored to its original condition." Pause. "I bet Fëanáro would like it too, come to think of it. I guess it might make being a small child more frustrating but he's always worried about not getting enough done."

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"Let's just ask for you, first, and then if there are no negative consequences we can discuss it with him. It might make it hard for you to maintain relationships with people, if you experience time very differently from them. And that's not a problem he needs."

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"Yeah, okay."

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"Do you want to leave now?"

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"I can't tell if the impulse to wait until the birthday festival's over is me or the time-slidey thing so yes immediately."
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"I had the impulse to suggest that and then thought you'd feel that way. All right. Let's go get horses."

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"Should we bring somebody who sees better than either of us?"

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"I've heard good things about vision for travelling, yes. Anyone in mind?"

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"Nnnot really I don't have ten years' worth of acquaintances either."

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"I"ll ask a friend to accompany us, she was torn over whether to leave Tirion when the Vanyar did and will be delighted to go visit them."

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"Sounds great. ...If she will be ready to leave promptly."

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"I will doggedly follow her around while she packs, at least. Meet you at the gates by the Mingling?"

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"Yes. Thank you."

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They are there by the Mingling. Rúmil's friend is in fact very bemused that they want to leave now, but okay.

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Hello Rúmil's friend it is nice to meet you, Bella is Bella.

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And they head out. It's a week's travel to Taniquetil. No time-blurring, it's just five hundred miles and even Valinorean horses need rest sometimes.

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Bella spends the trip diligently running out her magic every single day - she holds a bit in reserve until she's going to go to sleep, then spends it - trying to feel out the bits and pieces that eventually free Proper Wizards from having to cast discrete 'spells'. She solicits obscure Quenya vocabulary. She borrows Rúmil's friend's eyes and looks at things with Eldar vision. She notebooks. She practices teekay, which tires her out but doesn't have a hard limit. She seems terrified to slow down.

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If you were Fëanáro, this is where I'd reassure you that you don't stop mattering if you haven't solved everything fast enough.

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I'm not actually worried about external deadlines. I'm worried that I spent ten years not noticing that a thing was happening to my mind. I am very interested in making sure that I'm capable of staving it off manually. The rock she is levitating spins in the air.

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He nods. Hopefully Manwë can straightforwardly fix it.

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Hope so. Spin spin spin. Sway sway sway.

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Taniquetil towers over Valinor, its location (in the middle of the rolling plains) and its symmetry obviously supernatural. The path winds through picturesque valleys where the Vanyar have settled, up above the treeline, up above the cloudline, high enough to see the stars.

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