The first place they land is technically habitable and presumably starfaring. However, it is also apparently mid-war-of-some-kind and even Fëanáro can't figure out what the un-osanwëable hulks of metal are shouting at them in time to comply and those things they're holding seem to have already done disastrous things to the landscape. They jump again and now between Fëanáro's rescue mission and the escape attempts they're out of mana sufficient for jumping between them.
"This looks like where we jumped from -"
He peeks at the notes.
Makes sense. He looks at it for a while and hums to himself and then has suggestions.
Good. He missed her a lot.
"Maybe make ourselves a place away from everything, since we can teleport..."
"We can probably just ask in the city."
"Thindarin! Well, Falathrim but that's really just a difference in dialect, and it's related to Quenya so it hardly even counted as learning a language, just learning a lot of sound changes...we'll be obviously from Valinor but we don't mind that, right?"
"We should probably walk over instead of flying, though."
It's a long walk. He endeavors to teach them Thindarin along the way.
They endeavor to learn.
I think so. "Yes, thank you."
"Oh, are you from Valinor? What are they up to there these days?"
"They figured out a faster way to get here, I think you'll be seeing a lot more people soon."
"Huh. Well, welcome." He blinks between Rúmil and Bella confusedly.
"Fëanáro is a family friend," Rúmil says.
"Fëanor. In Thindarin."