Lake Mithrim is calm after Utumno freezes. Researchers research, Kat and Catherine tear around like little monsters, wizards fly, Elves sing.
Lake Mithrim ripples. It now has three islands in it. One of them is an architecturally stunning music hall, distinctly Elven but with superior material sciences underlying its construction. The other is a house, not Elven at all, narrow and without any yard to it, just stairs to a few feet of sidewalk.
" - I'm more - when you declared war were you under the impression that this would not involve killing any people."
"Um," says Grownup Katin, who has been watching her small alts all hold hands and spin around in a ring till they fall down giggling.
" - not any people who were not presently magically bound to slavery to the Enemy, if you'd rather. And not anybody in Valinor."
"I wonder if maybe with no one having had any wars before there was just no way to derive 'this is exactly the kind of thing that is pretty much guaranteed to happen in war'."
"Except for the resurrections part, that's all you guys," says Isama.
"Anyway even if it was predictable the Valar are furious and have cut us off and so we can't ask them for aid in returning you home."
"I mean, you had really better refrain from beating people to death in the streets of Valinor. But if you can do that - even if they're rude and work as streetsweepers -"
"If people without alternate universe versions want to go petition the Valar - they might get angry because mortals aren't supposed to go to Valinor, though, I'm not sure -"
"Is Kat allowed to go to Valinor?" wonders Grownup Katin. "She's immortal apparently -"
" - maybe? The Valar were not extraordinarily clear about this interdict - and what they actually said was that they doomed us to eternal suffering, which hasn't happened so maybe they were exaggerating for dramatic effect -"
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