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*Thinks it's high time that Ilmarin had a proper, full blown family dinner (now that the fall-out from Suraya's disappearance has settled a little.*

*Soon has the sylphs running around like mad things getting the dining room ready.*

*Sends out a cheerful telepathic summons to his nearest and dearest, telling them that dinner will be served imminently.*

*Invites Ulmo for good measure (Just isn't fully convinced that he gets fed properly down there in Ulmonan).*

*After making sure that the family has had adequate sanity levels restored, retreats to his study to take stock of the situation.*

*Decides it's high-time for a Ring of Doom gathering.*

*Starts work on an agenda for the meeting.*

*Consumes heroic amounts of tea.*

*Heads up to the Throne Room and takes a seat.*

Melkor? I think we need to talk. Now.

EDIT: *Has a singed couple of ainur in his throne room.*

Eönwë? Tilion? They're home.

*Returns to Ilmarin having failed to receive any word of Suraya or Arien.*

*Heads up to the war room to see if they've had any luck through other channels.*

*Takes the glum faces gathered around as an emphatic "no."*

*goes outside to let Suraya know that it is way past her bedtime*

*sees absolutely no sign of her*

*does a quick tour of all her likely hiding places (her room, Talwë's room, the Meadows, Aulë's forge, Lórien (where the peacocks are) before manifesting in Ilmarin*

*with a very cold fury radiating from his Music, suppressing any panic he might feel at this moment* Suraya has disappeared. Suraya has disappeared.

*Pretties herself up for dinner at Nimrodel's.*

*Pretties and pretties and pretties.*

*Abandons the initial prettying up endeavour after the results were unsatisfactory and starts all over again.*

*Swithers and sways over which dress to wear.* :?

*Takes a seat at the dinner table after a very interesting conversation with his daughter and his second.*

I think the Lord of Waters just asked Erinti out on a date. They'll deny it's a date and of course I can't prove anything but the evidence is compelling.

*Cuts himself a slice of sweet potato pie.*

*Chews thoughtfully*

I should take note of how much effort she puts into getting ready. More than forty five minutes and it's definitely a date.

*Paces around the throne-room.*

Okay, people? What's going on, you're making so much noise I can't hear a damn thing and there is no WAY Isil should be that low, do you need some eagles? Couple dozen eagles with some lines, they can help tow it. Do you need some eagles?

I'm sending eagles.

*has had an okay day, on the whole* *met Sauron's youngest daughter, who is quite intriguing, to say the least* *thinks He may just have to keep closer tabs on that one* >:)

*returns to Angband just in time to get out of the fucking storm* >:/

*hustles down to the depths of the place, already nursing a headache at all of the noise* For fuck's sake, can't just whip up a regular storm, oh no, they had to make it as LOUD and OBNOXIOUS as possible...

*gets a little suspicious as the storm drags on with no appreciable letup in the tumult* *pops a few Vala-strength aspirin and casts His senses out wide, gritting His teeth at the harmonic clamor*

*picks out an odd set of anomalies in the Music* *narrows His eyes and focuses*

. . . SONOFABITCH. >:|

*immediately summons a flock of corrupted spirits of Air to Himself* Right, you lot. Isil. Get there. Make screaming nuisances of yourselves. I've a smaller fish to fry. Go.

*prior to the next stage in the re-Nienorification of Niënor, summons the interested parties to Ilmarin, whether they are physically present or not*

*addresses the gathered assembly and the more distant celestial bodies* The plan is as follows. Sir, Lord Ulmo, I require cloud cover and plenty of it. Arien, I need you to pile on the heat during the day so that a thunderstorm will not be unexpected. When night falls, my Lady Mother and my sister, together with Ardamírë and Ingil are going to provide the brightest starlight they can. I want glare and I want sound and I want a wall of Music between the ground and Isil. I want the brightest and loudest thunderstorm these skies have seen. I want the enemy to have to shield his eyes and cover his ears.

*Is resolutely unimpressed.*

*Heads towards the living room.*

Herald? Would you be so kind as to inform Arien that myself, the Lord of Waters and the Lord of Song will be in conference for...

*Uncovers a tv seeing stone and calls up the latest episode of CSI: Lothorien.*

...an hour, at least. No, wait, forty-five minutes. I TiVo'ed this. No commercials, ha!

Tell her she's welcome to wait in one of the drawing rooms, and that she's free to avail herself of refreshments. Once you've done that, inform my daughter that I'd like to see her. Tell her to bring nachos too.

*Gets a PM from Boss-boss that he wants him in Ilmarin to discuss security arrangements for Erinti's next deliberate Musical fuck-up session.*

*Sleeps restlessly until he gets a mental wake-up from Falathar, telling him that it's misty where he is, it's quite warm so it's probably only a haar, and that he finished the last chapter of the book he was reading and it was a bit of a cop-out, given how the main character managed to survive a five storey fall by hanging on by his pinky.*

*Makes his way up by Eagle express and avails himself of the ever-available and high quality tea while he waits.*

*Needs to think and think he does.*

*Paces around his throne room until it gets dark.*

*Leans on a balcony and stares up at the sky.*

*Cocks his head to the side as he watches Isil rise for the night.*

Tilion? Can I have a word?

*loiters around outside Manwë's throne room, keeping an ear open to everything that's been said*

*grows more and more thunderous as he listens to Erinti*

*Frog marches his daughter to the throne room.*

*Sits down and steeples his fingertips.*

All right. It's come to my attention that you were recently in the company of Melkor, on his home turf. You've got thirty seconds to give me a good reason as to why that came about.

Startinnnnnnnggg...NOW.

*Manifests back into Ulmonan.*

*Doesn't quite get his footing when he reappeares after his mid-air disembodiment trick.*

*Falls over backwards.*

*saunters into one of the offices in Ilmarin*

In all my years, I've never seen those Eagles look quite so nauseated. Is it already Annual De-Fleaing time?

*Natters for his arda.*

...I'm really not sure about this plan. I mean, it sounds fine in theory but if the first attempt is going to turn her into a basket-case after only a few minutes, how's she going to cope trying to unravel the Music in detail? Apparently, she just cried for a few minutes and then fell asleep. Then she came home and just sat in her room eating doughnuts. I don't know, maybe she was just thinking but I'm worried she was binging. Worried young people can do that you know, I read about it in Fretful Parent Monthly.

*sighs* I think she might be sleeping with Ulmo.

*Has a worn out, emotionally drained, sleeping valie resting her head on his lap.*

*Worries about how she's going to deal with Nienor's discordant aspect if her tonal Music affected her this badly.*

*Gently trails his fingers through her hair as he thinks over his next move.*

*Finds it kinda relaxing. Very relaxing. Who knew?*

*Nods off to sleep before he realises what's happened.*

*rattles around Ilmarin, a bit at a loss as to what to do while Amillo is doing what ever Lords of Song do*

*misses his brother*

*goes to the library and mooches around there for a while, unable to decide on a book*