Varda: Left for Middle-Earth, Great Lord. Fëanor led them off with tales of us trying to hold them here.
Manwë: Filthy liar! After all I've taught him...
Varda: Shall we keep him here?
Manwë: No. That would only make Fëanor's lies true. But the Valar shall have no more dealings with those Noldor. (He takes a step forward and holds his hands, palms up, in front of him.) Fëanor, I sever all links with you. No more friendship shall you have from me, nor shall your heirs, Maedhros being the first of the them. These, too, I sever from me: Maedhros, Maglor, (here he pauses and lowers his hands. Then, gently.) Poor Maglor. I wonder what it took to have him go along with their foolish plans. Was it Maedhros? Or something else? (He shakes himself and raises his hands again.) Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod and Amras. Those of the House of Fingolfin who went and their heirs. And all the other Noldor who went to Middle-Earth! (He raises his hands higher then lets them fall to his sides.) There. I do not care what they do now... so long as it does not interfere with me.
Varda: Is that all you will do?
Manwë: Why should I do more? He has not actually harmed anything or anyone.
Varda: But he refused to let us have the means to heal the Trees. (There is a noticeable pause.)
Manwë: Since the Silmarils were gone already...
Varda: Never mind. (She walks over to Manwë and gives a small laugh.) I could almost feel sorry for Morgoth, with those Elves after him. Not just Fëanor fire-spirit, but Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin...
Manwë: You do not mention Maedhros?
Varda: He is young, so is inclined to be a bit rash, but I think he will lose his zeal for fulfilling the Oath. And Maglor... he is wise enough to restrain himself, and maybe even his brothers. (she sighs.) We shall have to see how this plays out. (Manwë nods. They exit SR slowly. Lights dim and come back on, revealing Fëanor and the Elves on stage.)