Aulë and Yavanna

The Curse Of Melkor

At last what Melkor had planned had come to pass. Vána, being weary and content, slept for a while, and it was then he struck. When Vána woke, her flowers were gone, burned by the wrath of the earth.

"Nay, nay! What hath foul Melkor done!" She cried, and wept. Her tears soaked the earth like a great storm, and yet the earth did not flood. As she bent down to touch the ashes of her precious valley, she caught sight of something. A small sprout, fed by her tears, rose from the earth. Even in the plain of desolation, the tears of Vána held the most important thing. In her tears, and consequently in her heart, she held hope. With the jar Yavanna had gifted her, Vána saved the last of her flowers, a little red bloom the color of blood.

She went to the river to feed it water from Coiviantë's sweet springs, and to quench her own thirst. But when she lifted her hands to her full lips and drank, she cried out again in sadness.

"The water hath turned bitter! Such is the woe of Melkor that he hath marred all things. No longer is this Coivinatë, but rather Foanaina. Breath of lamentation." And she wept more, but checked her tears. From her hands she produced a small wreath of the flower nimloth. She laid them by the river, and then ran till she found Yavanna. Yavanna had been singing with her new daughter Nessa, whilst Aulë and Oromë looked on.

"Vána, how pleasant it is to see thee there, beautiful as always." Oromë said lovingly.

"Yea, but did thee miss the tear stains on her cheeks." Aulë spoke gently, his grey eyes sparkling sadly. "What hath Melkor done now, Vána dear?"

"He hath destroyed my gardens, left my river bitter with the ashes of my flowers, and defiled the very earth of the valley." Aulë was sympathetic, but she knew he had experienced this long before she had.

"It is his way, Vána dear. Your gardens were beautiful, but now that they are gone you can simply rest here. Yavanna will calm you." With that, Yavanna stopped singing and walked over, her gown of sweet honeysuckle singing the song she left behind. The flowers on it reminded Vána of her garden and again she wept, this time bitterly.

"My sister, dry your tears." Yavanna's stern voice snapped her out of her depression. "It was wrong of you to be pleased with one work, after all, we knew Melkor wanted to destroy it. I will take you as my maiden until my son is of age to wed. Until then, you will be by my side, aiding me in my works while I aid you in yours. Do not dwell on this. You did save one flower, did you not? Not all is lost. Hope still remains. Now come, and meet my daughter Nessa."