#( Vána would make a tree grow on his a** >:||| )

[ereborcore]

i very much enjoy depictions of oromë with animal traits. i think that is a very cool design choice. oromë is my favourite vala and i always love to see art of him. HOWEVER... i would like to provide a perspective i rarely see acknowledged: that oromë is a god who symbolises man's stewardship over the natural world. depictions of him as a very human figure, with all the trappings of civilisation, make a lot more sense to me, considering his role.

oromë's association with animals is all about domestication. he rides a horse, he keeps trained hounds, and he even has cattle. the hunter-god identity could be animalistic; obviously animals hunt. but oromë hunts with weapons, and trains animals to serve him. therefore he has dominion over beasts, rather than being himself beastlike. this dominion is peaceful, not abusive or controlling or unnatural. domestication is seen as good and natural.

on the wilderness as his domain: oromë is called 'the lord of forests', and loves trees, and the lay of leithian calls him 'the forest-god'. but he doesn't live in the forest! he rules over the forests, but he lives in a house; the book of lost tales says it's in the city of valmar (a city can be seen as the opposite of the wilderness). it's full of spears and bows and knives and hunting trophies: all signs of civilisation.

most interesting maybe is the living trees that grow inside. this blends oromë's house into a mixture of the forest and a structure: peaceful cohabitation of nature and civilisation.

the women oromë is associated with also have this theme of peaceful harmony between the wild and civilisation. nessa his sister runs in the forests with deer, but returns to valimar to dance on lawns (lawns that oromë himself 'culled' from his forest glades- hmm!) vána his wife tends to gardens, and picks flowers; we could see this as the feminine version of dominion over nature. oromë is the master of animals and tames them to his will, while vána turns wild flora into cultivated gardens.

so when i think of oromë, i think of furs, leathers, and arrows, not teeth, claws, and antlers. he symbolises a belief that mankind (using this word as a catch-all for non-divine beings) should live in peaceful dominion over the natural world, so he must be man-shaped. hunting is part of that dominion, even though it is associated with death and predation.

after all, oromë's role as huntsman only becomes threatening when morgoth lies and tells the elves that the dark rider will hunt and eat them, not the animals that are his sanctioned prey. and what prey is celegorm hunting when huan, hound of oromë, leaves him for good?

[aureentuluva70]

It struck me a while ago that Lùthien's creation of her magic cloak and escape from Hirilorn as told in the Book of Lost Tales strongly parallels the creation of the Two Trees from BoLT, to the point that I am 100% certain it was no coincidence on Tolkien's part.

In the BoLT, in preparation for the making of the Two Trees, "Ulmo rose from his deeps and fared to the blazing lakes and the pools of brilliance. Therefore he drew rivers of light into vast vessels, pouring back waters in their place, and with these he got him back to Valinor. There was all the light poured into two great cauldrons that Aulë fashioned in the gloom against his return, and those are called Kulullin and Silindrin."

The Valar dig two great pits in Valinor, and "In the one did Ulmo set seven rocks of gold brought from the most silent deeps of the sea, and a fragment was cast thereafter of the lamp that had burned awhile upon Helkar in the South. Then was the pit covered with rich earths that Palúrien devised, and Vána came who loveth life and sunlight and at whose song the flowers arise and open...There sang she the song of spring upon the mound, and danced about it, and watered it with great streams of that golden light that Ulmo had brought from the spilled lakes..."

"But in the other pit they cast three huge pearls that Ossë found in the Great Sea, and a small star Varda cast after them, and they covered it with foams and white mists and thereafter sprinkled lightly earth upon it, but Lorien who loveth twilights and flittering shadows...sat nigh and whispered swift noiseless words...and the Gods poured upon that place rivers of the white radiance and silver light which Silindrin held even to the brim..."

"Then came Palúrien, even Kémi the Earth-lady, wife of Aulë, mother of the lord of forests, and she wove spells about those two places, deep enchantments of life and growth and putting forth of leaf, blossoming and yielding of fruit - but she mingled no word of fading in her song."

Sometime later Laurëlin sprouts and begins to grow very fast for twelve hours until it is full-grown, and once those hours have passed, "the Valar saw a shoot arise in that place whereto the pools of Silindrin had been poured" and thus Telperion begins to grow also, like Laurëlin taking twelve hours to become fully grown.

Now compare this to the scene in the Tale of Tinuviel where Tinuviel creates her magic cloak in Hirilorn:

"The next day she asked those who came to her to bring, if they would, some of the clearest water of the stream below, "but this," she said, "must be drawn at midnight in a silver bowl, and brought to my hand with no word spoken," and after that she desired wine to be brought, "but this," she said, "must be borne hither in a flagon of gold at noon, and he who brings it must sing as he comes," and they did as they were bid, but Tinwelint was not told."

Soon enough, having everything she asked for, "...Tinuviel took the wine and water when she was alone, and singing a very magical song the while, she mingled them together, and as they lay in the bowl of gold she sang a song of growth, and as they lay in the bowl of silver she sang another song...Then did she lave her head with the mingled water and wine, and as she did so she sang a third song...and the hair of Tinúviel...began suddenly to grow very fast indeed, and after twelve hours had passed it nigh filled the little room..."

Both creations require the use of water which is gathered into two vessels, one made of silver and the other gold, the gold brought while singing, the silver brought in silence. The creations of the Trees and Lùthien's cloak requires the singing of three different songs, and only after the third does the magic truly begin to take effect. Both Lùthien's hair and each of the Two Trees takes twelve hours to grow.

Looking at all this, the parallels are way too strong to simply be a coincidence. Like cmon. I wanna talk about this.

[nyarnamaitar]

Ulmo Comforts His King

(AKA a small Ulmo x Manwë drabble I wrote in 5 minutes and decided to throw into the Void)

— — — — — —

He is still not looking at you. He raised his eyes briefly, yes, to meet yours, but he quickly lowered them again. His face is very pale and he seems smaller somehow, curled into himself. He has always been quiet by nature, contemplative, the trappings of his position forcing him to speak more and louder than he would do if he were not crowned king. But this is no comfortable quiet of his; his features too neutral, the curve of his spine too tense.

“Highest?” you ask, trying to get his full attention, trying to connect as you have always done whenever you are together. “Manwë?” you add, pushing, when he remains silent. You are growing desperate, you realise. It has been a while since you have last had a real, private moment with your dearest friend. You miss him. At first, when Melkor — Morgoth, the Eldar call your foe now, deservedly— betrayed you and yours, destroyed the Trees, and fled to his stronghold in the North, Silmarils in hand, you came speeding to your king, and during and in-between the long hours of council, you fought the urge to pull him to the side and let the words I told you so, did I not? He was never worthy of your mercy, let alone your love roll from your lips, but you fear that he heard them anyway. Ever you have failed to keep your heart hidden from him.

And now it has come to this: the radiance of your lord dimmed, his heart and soul surrounded by tall walls, his eyes averted from yours.

And though his demeanor does not come as a surprise — your kinsmen warned you — it still pains you to the very core of your being. He barely speaks to me, Námo said, and when he does, he only ever asks for advice of a political nature. He stares at Vairë’s tapestries in silence. He no longer visits Irmo’s gardens.

We used to enjoy sitting together, Yavanna and Vána told you, enjoying the sight of flowers in bloom and the touch of the wind in the meadow. Now he rarely strays from his mountain home. Even the birds feel his absence; their songs are muted.

My love is grieving, Varda confided, he needs time — or so he told me. But I know his heart and I worry. Sea King — Ulmo — friend — will you not talk to him?

So now you are here, in front of him, yet no words are sufficient to encompass the enormity of what you feel, what you wish to tell him. I know you are ashamed; do not be. I know you believe I judge you; I do not — I never did — I only ever sought to protect you. I know you find yourself unworthy of your station; do not condemn yourself so. You are by far the worthiest among us. Please believe me. Please allow me to stand by you, as I have always done. Do not push me away, where I cannot find you.

His soft-spoken words, almost whispers, take you out of your reverie. “Sea King — Ulmo — what brings you here?” he asks, as if he cannot quite grasp why anyone would willingly seek out his company. It is this uncertainty, this self-hatred you hear in his voice that makes something balk within you, scream in outrage. You have to make this right. Now. You go to him, almost running, and before he can flee into hiding, you take his hands and kiss his wrists — his pulse is like the thunder that precedes a storm —, his open palms. You pull him closer to you and you look up. The walls are down, finally leveled, and you see tears clouding his blue eyes. He bows his head in sorrow. You embrace him, and he goes willingly, curls himself against your chest. Something slumbering within you unwinds and comes to life. From this day forth, you swear to yourself, you will not waver from his side.

[ceruleanwhore]

I know the Tolkien fandom really loves Yavanna and has these lovely theories about her making the hobbits and the ents, but I had another idea regarding the ents that makes more sense to me, which is that Oromë was actually the one to make them. This is partially because the Valaquenta says that "all trees he loves, for which reason he is called Aldaron, and by the Sindar Tauron, the Lord of Forests," which clearly tells us that he specifically loves trees. We also know that he spent more time in Middle Earth than any of the other valar, so it's not unreasonable that he could grow attached to some of the forests there and create shepherds to care for them.

More importantly, I actually think that he and Vána are Tom Bombadil and Goldberry, because of a slavic deity called Leshy (also Leshi or леший). His domain is the forest and he's a great hunter, like Oromë, but he's also a bit of a forest cryptid who tends to mislead travellers, more like Bombadil. Now, Tolkien was into all kinds of stuff like older European mythologies, so it isn't unreasonable to think that he could've encountered this deity in his scholarship and then used him as inspiration for these characters. The way I see this working is that, at some point after the first age, Oromë and Vána were sick of everything so they fucked off to the forest in Middle Earth and started over as Bombadil and Goldberry.

The ents tie into this because Bombadil clearly cares about the ents in the text. If he was the one who created them in the first place, then that would further explain his interest in receiving news about them. Oh and the last thing I'd point out is all the singing with Bombadil because Lord knows that singing is a pretty big thing with all the valar, since that's how they created and shaped Arda.

Idk, what do y'all think?

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

The Chase

Pairing: Pre-Defection! Gothmog (Calinár) /Eönwë

Prompt: "You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how." - Gone with the Wind, 1939.

Themes: Soft | NSFW | Alternate universe-Canon divergence

Warnings: Kissing

Wordcount: 1.1k words

Summary: During his first Feast of Horns, an inexperienced Eönwë wonders who will catch him in the end.

Minors DNI | 18+| You are responsible for the media you consume

A/n: Preliminary headcanon for the Feast of Horns can be found here.

This fic is also available on AO3

“Calinár,” Eönwë called out softly. “Put an end to your tarrying, my friend, and come along. The others are waiting for us.”

Calinár gave his drinking horn to an attendant who passed by. By the time he joined the others, Oromë had taken his customary place on the dais, as was expected of him as the Master of Ceremonies.

“This is your Feast of Horns, yes?” Calinár asked when he made his way to Eönwë’s side.

The other Maia flushed. It was his first time partaking in such rituals, and his apprehension was plain to anyone who saw it. “Yes. It is,” he replied.

Many an eager Ainu joined the growing throng. Some took their places as hunters; others took their places as the hunted. It would not matter. By the time the chase ended, hunter and hunter would be indulging in all sorts of pleasures of the flesh. Some would unite only in pairs, and others would welcome the embraces of two or more. And it vexed Eönwë to think he had not even kissed another until this moment; he had been so consumed with his duties that he gave little time for anything else.

Calinár would have replied had Lord Oromë not begun to speak. “Welcome one and all!” He cried. An anticipatory hush fell over everyone that had gathered when his rich, deep voice echoed through the woods. “On this, the hour of the chase, let neither fear nor inhibition stand in your way!”

His declaration was met with a chorus of rousing whistles and cheers. Calinár glanced at his fellow warrior. Eönwë wore a collar adorned with blue and green horns around his neck, as befitting his choice to take on the role of the hunted. He was a commander and a warrior without peer, a hunter in his own way, and for once, he craved to know what it felt like to be chased. For himself, Calinár adorned his person with twisting horns of jet on his brow, as he wanted to hunt.

This is his feast, Calinár thought to himself. And his first chase. Perhaps I should be the hunter who brings him down.

With that notion, he turned his attention back to Oromë. “Abstain as you wish,” he continued, “and unite however you wish, with whomever you wish. Hunters! Are you ready?”

The roars that greeted his question were so loud that they were near deafening.

“Hunted!” Oromë cried out again. “Are you ready?”

Eönwë roared loudly with the rest, and then he went silent when Oromë called for his horn. Vána came forth clad in a tunic comprised wholly of crimson flowers and bearing Valaróma on a velvet cushion. Its eerie, otherworldly note resounded through the forests surrounding them not long after.

“Let the chase begin!” Oromë bellowed, and those who chose to be hunted ran into the forest first. They had already run a great distance before the Valaróma sounded again, and the hunters gave chase. Many of those who counted among the hunted shouted and laughed, giving themselves away without a second thought. Eönwë, however, took care not to do so. He kept to the shadows, dipping behind the thick trunks of trees whenever an Ainu with horns amidst their hair came into his sight.

The one who claims me, he decided, Must seek me out and do so. I will not make easy prey of myself.

Leaves lay thick on the forest floor, muffling the sounds made by his bare feet. He had little choice but to run, for no one with wings was allowed to fly. Still, he did not mind as he flitted from tree to tree, his own arousal growing when he heard sharp gasps and soft sighs, lusty laughter and quiet moans, and when he set his eyes on those coupling in twos and threes and fours. And yet, he did not see the hunter with twisted horns of jet. Horns of gold and crimson and silver and green he saw, but never horns of jet. Calinár was nowhere to be seen.

Is he coming after me? Is that why he is not indulging himself with the others?

The notion that his friend and fellow warrior was seeking him out proved to be more than a little thrilling. And then, just as he turned down another tree-lined path, a powerful pair of arms encircled him, and he was thrown to the forest floor in a flurry of leaves and vibrant feathers. When the weight of his captor came to bear down on his belly and incessant flashes of heat radiated through his robes, he hissed softly but made no move to escape.

“Calinár!” He managed after recognizing the horns of jet protruding amidst thick black curls. “So it is you who has claimed me. Pray what do we do now?”

“This.” Calinár, who sat astride his hips, braced his hands above Eönwë’s shoulders and leaned down.

He kissed him, both pleased with being able to capture Eönwë and enraptured by the sight of the herald beneath him, watching him and waiting, with his lips slightly parted as if in invitation. And while that kiss may not have been Calinár’s first, it would go on to be the kiss that changed everything for both him and Eönwë in a profound way for all time. He savored every subtle flavor he found and drank in the scent of pine and wildflowers and the wind lingering in Eönwë’s hair with each breath he took. He sighed softly, thinking he had strayed into a beautiful dream.

Everything about him is perfect, he thought. How he trembles just so, the way his lips move against my own, the way his hands shake…

Then he drew away. “This is your first in many things, I see.” His new companion had been clumsy, as if he did not know what to do. His kiss had been timid, and he kept touching him with fumbling fingers. When Eönwë looked away, more than a little ashamed of his lack of skill, Calinár gripped his chin and turned it, forcing him to meet his fiery gaze.

“Tell me, little bird,” he insisted, though not unkindly. “Am I your first?”

“Yes. Are you angry?” Eönwë returned, thinking Calinár would leave him and run in search of another. The latter surprised him by kissing him hard on the mouth, groaning under his breath when Eönwë’s tongue finally pressed against his own and his fingers dug into his thighs. 

“No.” Calinár laughed after he stopped just long enough to breathe. He brushed his hand over Eönwë’s hair, then his cheek. “I am not angry. You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.” He remarked. “Now come with me. We should continue this elsewhere, where the others cannot find us. I am not one of those beings who believes in sharing.”

tags: @asianbutnotjapanese @cilil

[warriorswithin]

❛❛ NIELÍQUI.

“Mother!” Nieliqui straightened up, her eyes widening in surprise. “Mother I’m fine,” she said, looking away, her voice dropping slightly as she recovered from her shock. “Melkoro is chained in Mandos, he will not trouble us again.” The dancer swirled her hair through her fingers, not meeting Vana’s eyes.

   CONCERN FILLED HER FEATURES for she could see, SENSE even that her daughter was LYING to her. She furrowed her eyebrows in a concerning way, for Vána knew her daughter was tormented still. Softly reaching forward, she pulled Nielíqui to an EMBRACE, tight as she could ever feel her daughter in her arms, kissing her forehead and nearly cooing her to SAFETY once more.

   ❝I KNOW YOU ARE NOT TELLING ME THE TRUTH, I can still sense your fear ————❞ Vána stopped, then moving away from her for a few meters only, ANALYZING her, softly caressing her cheeks. ❝WHAT has he done to you?❞ 

( @ardaisms. ) 

[eldamaranquendi]

Valar & Valier by https://www.instagram.com/0.p.a.l.e/

1.  "Manwë and Melkor were brethren in the thought of Ilúvatar. The mightiest of those Ainur who came into the World was in his beginning Melkor; but Manwë is dearest to Ilúvatar and understands most clearly his purposes. He was appointed to be, in the fullness of time, the first of all Kings: lord of the realm of Arda and ruler of all that dwell therein. In Arda his delight is in the winds and the clouds, and in all the regions of the air, from the heights to the depths, from the utmost borders of the Veil of Arda to the breezes that blow in the grass. Súlimo he is surnamed, Lord of the Breath of Arda. All swift birds, strong of wing, he loves, and they come and go at his bidding. With Manwë dwells Varda, Lady of the Stars, who knows all the regions of Eä. Too great is her beauty to be declared in the words of Men or of Elves; for the light of Ilúvatar lives still in her face. In light is her power and her joy. Out of the deeps of Eä she came to the aid of Manwë; for Melkor she knew from before the making of the Music and rejected him, and he hated her, and feared her more than all others whom Eru made. Manwë and Varda are seldom parted, and they remain in Valinor. Their halls are above the everlasting snow, upon Oiolossë, the uttermost tower of Taniquetil, tallest of all the mountains upon Earth. When Manwë there ascends his throne and looks forth, if Varda is beside him, he sees further than all other eyes, through mist, and through darkness, and over the leagues of the sea. And if Manwë is with her, Varda hears more clearly than all other ears the sound of voices that cry from east to west, from the hills and the valleys, and from the dark places that Melkor has made upon Earth. Of all the Great Ones who dwell in this world the Elves hold Varda most in reverence and love. Elbereth they name her, and they call upon her name out of the shadows of Middle-earth, and uplift it in song at the rising of the stars."

2.  "Ulmo is the Lord of Waters. He is alone. He dwells nowhere long, but moves as he will in all the deep waters about the Earth or under the Earth. He is next in might to Manwë, and before Valinor was made he was closest to him in friendship; but thereafter he went seldom to the councils of the Valar, unless great matters were in debate. For he kept all Arda in thought, and he has no need of any resting-place. Moreover he does not love to walk upon land, and will seldom clothe himself in a body after the manner of his peers. If the Children of Eru beheld him they were filled with a great dread; for the arising of the King of the Sea was terrible, as a mounting wave that strides to the land, with dark helm foam-crested and raiment of mail shimmering from silver down into shadows of green. The trumpets of Manwë are loud, but Ulmo.s voice is deep as the deeps of the ocean which he only has seen. Nonetheless Ulmo loves both Elves and Men, and never abandoned them, not even when they lay under the wrath of the Valar. At times he win come unseen to the shores of Middle-earth, or pass far inland up firths of the sea, and there make music upon his great horns, the Ulumúri, that are wrought of white shell; and those to whom that music comes hear it ever after in their hearts, and longing for the sea never leaves them again. But mostly Ulmo speaks to those who dwell in Middle-earth with voices that are heard only as the music of water. For all seas, lakes, rivers, fountains and springs are in his government; so that the Elves say that the spirit of Ulmo runs in all the veins of the world. Thus news comes to Ulmo, even in the deeps, of all the needs and griefs of Arda, which otherwise would be hidden from Manwë."

3.  "Aulë has might little less than Ulmo. His lordship is over all the substances of which Arda is made. In the beginning he wrought much in fellowship with Manwë and Ulmo; and the fashioning of all lands was his labour. He is a smith and a master of all crafts, and he delights in works of skill, however small, as much as in the mighty building of old. His are the gems that lie deep in the Earth and the gold that is fair in the hand, no less than the walls of the mountains and the basins of the sea. The Noldor learned most of him, and he was ever their friend. Melkor was jealous of him, for Aulë was most like himself in thought and in powers; and there was long strife between them, in which Melkor ever marred or undid the works of Aulë, and Aulë grew weary in repairing the tumults and disorders of Melkor. Both, also, desired to make things of their own that should be new and unthought of by others, and delighted in the praise of their skill. But Aulë remained faithful to Eru and submitted all that he did to his will; and he did not envy the works of others, but sought and gave counsel. Whereas Melkor spent his spirit in envy and hate, until at last he could make nothing save in mockery of the thought of others, and all their works he destroyed if he could. The spouse of Aulë is Yavanna, the Giver of Fruits. She is the lover of all things that grow in the earth, and all their countless forms she holds in her mind, from the trees like towers in forests long ago to the moss upon stones or the small and secret things in the mould. In reverence Yavanna is next to Varda among the Queens of the Valar. In the form of a woman she is tall, and robed in green; but at times she takes other shapes. Some there are who have seen her standing like a tree under heaven, crowned with the Sun; and from all its branches there spilled a golden dew upon the barren earth, and it grew green with corn; but the roots of the tree were in the waters of Ulmo, and the winds of Manwë spoke in its leaves. Kementári, Queen of the Earth, she is surnamed in the Eldarin tongue."

4.  "The Fëanturi, masters of spirits, are brethren, and they are called most often Mandos and Lórien. Yet these are rightly the names of the places of their dwelling, and their true names are Námo and Irmo. Námo the elder dwells in Mandos, which is westward in Valinor. He is the keeper of the Houses of the Dead, and the summoner of the spirits of the slain. He forgets nothing; and he knows all things that shall be, save only those that lie still in the freedom of Ilúvatar. He is the Doomsman of the Valar; but he pronounces his dooms and his Judgements only at the bidding of Manwë. Vairë the Weaver is his spouse, who weaves all things that have ever been in Time into her storied webs, and the halls of Mandos that ever widen as the ages pass are clothed with them."

5.  "Irmo the younger is the master of visions and dreams. In Lórien are his gardens in the land of the Valar, and they are the fairest of all places in the world, filled with many spirits. Estë the gentle, healer of hurts and of weariness, is his spouse. Grey is her raiment; and rest is her gift. She walks not by day, but sleeps upon an island in the tree-shadowed lake of Lórellin. From the fountains of Irmo and Estë all those who dwell in Valinor draw refreshment; and often the Valar come themselves to Lórien and there find repose and easing of the burden of Arda."

6.  "Mightier than Estë is Nienna, sister of the Fëanturi; she dwells alone. She is acquainted with grief, and mourns for every wound that Arda has suffered in the marring of Melkor. So great was her sorrow, as the Music unfolded, that her song turned to lamentation long before its end, and the sound of mourning was woven into the themes of the World before it began. But she does not weep for herself; and those who hearken to her learn pity, and endurance in hope. Her halls are west of West, upon the borders of the world; and she comes seldom to the city of Valimar where all is glad. She goes rather to the halls of Mandos, which are near to her own; and all those who wait in Mandos cry to her, for she brings strength to the spirit and turns sorrow to wisdom. The windows of her house look outward from the walls of the world."

7.  "Greatest in strength and deeds of prowess is Tulkas, who is surnamed Astaldo, the Valiant. He came last to Arda, to aid the Valar in the first battles with Melkor. He delights in wrestling and in contests of strength; and he rides no steed, for he can outrun all things that go on feet, and he is tireless. His hair and beard are golden, and his flesh ruddy; his weapons are his hands. He has little heed for either the past or the future, and is of no avail as a counsellor, but is a hardy friend. His spouse is Nessa, the sister of Oromë, and she also is lithe and fleetfooted. Deer she loves, and they follow her train whenever she goes in the wild; but she can outrun them, swift as an arrow with the wind in her hair. In dancing she delights, and she dances in Valimar on lawns of never-fading green."

8.  "Oromë is a mighty lord. If he is less strong than Tulkas, he is more dreadful in anger; whereas Tulkas laughs ever, in sport or in war, and even in the face of Melkor he laughed in battles before the Elves were born. Oromë loved the lands of Middle-earth, and he left them unwillingly and came last to Valinor; and often of old he passed back east over the mountains and returned with his host to the hills and the plains. He is a hunter of monsters and fell beasts, and he delights in horses and in hounds; and all trees he loves, for which reason he is called Aldaron, and by the Sindar Tauron, the Lord of Forests. Nahar is the name of his horse, white in the sun, and shining silver at night. The Valaróma is the name of his great horn, the sound of which is like the upgoing of the Sun in scarlet, or the sheer lightning cleaving the clouds. Above all the horns of his host it was heard in the woods that Yavanna brought forth in Valinor; for there Oromë would train his folk and his beasts for the pursuit of the evil creatures of. Melkor. The spouse of Oromë is Vána, the Ever-young; she is the younger sister of Yavanna. All flowers spring as she passes and open if she glances upon them; and all birds sing at her coming."

9.  " Last of all is set the name of Melkor, He who arises in Might. But that name he has forfeited; and the Noldor, who among the Elves suffered most from his malice, will not utter it, and they name him Morgoth, the Dark Enemy of the World. Great might was given to him by Ilúvatar, and he was coeval with Manwë. In the powers and knowledge of all the other Valar he had part, but he turned them to evil purposes, and squandered his strength in violence and tyranny. For he coveted Arda and all that was in it, desiring the kingship of Manwë and dominion over the realms of his peers. From splendour he fell through arrogance to contempt for all things save himself, a spirit wasteful and pitiless. Understanding he turned to subtlety in perverting to his own will all that he would use, until he became a liar without shame. He began with the desire of Light, but when he could not possess it for himself alone, he descended through fire and wrath into a great burning, down into Darkness. And darkness he used most in his evil works upon Arda, and filled it with fear for all living things."

[ainurmoodboards]

Yavanna (Winter Aesthetic)

Yavanna was the Vala responsible for creating the flora and fauna of Arda, making her a Mother Earth-type figure. One of her titles was Kementári, which translates to Queen of the Earth. Her husband was Aulë, who was associated with the physical substances of the earth upon which Yavanna's creations depended on to survive. Her younger sister was Vána, who was associated with nature as well, especially with spring and the beautiful side of nature. Yavanna was one of the Aratar, the eight most powerful of the Valar, and since her creations were some of the greatest victims of Melkor's corruption she was one of the most active of the Valar in opposing him. Her greatest creations were the Two Trees of Valinor, and through them she was indirectly the creator of the Sun and the Moon.

In the earliest years of Arda, when Melkor had temporarily fled and the earth was symmetrical, the Valar raised two great "lamps" in the north and south to illuminate the earth. This is when plant and animal life flourished, and was known as the Spring of Arda. But Melkor later secretly returned and destroyed the Two Lamps, causing much destruction of the earth and ending the Spring of Arda. The Valar tried their best to preserve their creations and were afraid to change the earth again since the Children of Illuvatar had not yet awakened, and they retreated to Aman. The destruction of the Two Lamps left the earth in darkness, lit only by the light of Varda's first stars. Melkor began to spread his poison and corruption, and the Valar retreated west to the continent of Aman.

When the Valar and their helpers left Middle-earth, Yavanna protected the plants and creatures that survived the destruction of the Two Lamps by putting them into a deep sleep in which they did not age or grow, which would be lifted whenever light returned to Arda once more. This period, marked by a silence and stillness in nature, was referred to as the Sleep of Yavanna. The Sleep of Yavanna would end centuries later with the first rising of the Sun, beginning a Second Spring of Arda.

The Sleep of Yavanna is comparable to winter in that her "spell" that she casts on the plants and animals resembles the hibernation that many creatures go through during the winter season. Yavanna is often compared to Mother Nature goddesses, particularly the Greek goddess Demeter. Demeter's loss of her daughter Persephone to the underworld for a portion of each year is used to explain the winter season, a concept found in many world mythologies. Yavanna was deeply saddened when she put her creations to sleep and, like Ulmo and Oromë, refused to completely abandon Middle-earth to Melkor. She would come from Aman on occasion to heal the sickness and poison Melkor had inflicted upon her creations, all while advocating to the Valar to take up arms against Melkor again.

Despite the similarities, the Sleep of Yavanna isn't exactly winter though. There is no mention of snow or cold temperatures; Tolkien doesn't discuss the changing seasons much in the Silmarilion. The Sleep of Yavanna was also preceeded by the Spring of Arda, and was followed by a Second Spring of Arda, whereas winter usually come before spring and is preceeded by fall/autumn. And Yavanna doesn’t have any control over snow or the weather; Melkor is associated with ice, and in Tolkien’s early works Nienna is called the Queen of Winter.

[djinmer4]

Paimë i Valaina (Silmarillion)

“Are you worried?” Elrond approached the figure at the rail, watching the rapidly nearing quay.  The other ellon turned to look at him, grey eyes calm with none of the apprehension the Peredhel had expected.

“Not anymore.  I was worried at the beginning of the trip, that the Valar might choose to do something dramatic during the journey.  But we seemed to have made it safely through the Straight Road.  Even if Manwë takes it into his head to hit the ship with a lightning bolt to drown me, we’re close enough to the shore that the rest of you can swim to safety.”  Maglor leaned back and shaded his eyes.  “I’m not seeing a company of Maiar on the docks to escort me to the  Máhanaxar so I’ll take that as a good sign.”

Indeed, when the ship docked there was only a small contingent to meet them.  Galadriel had taken it upon herself to be their spokeswoman and commented on the lack.  The head of the delegation apologized, “We were indeed warned by Uinen and other Maiar of Ulmo, but ‘The Ship bearing those who fought against Sauron will arrive soon’ doesn’t actually give a time frame for expected arrival.  Your parents, Princess, could not take leave of their duties for such a great time period to meet you here, although word will be sent to Tirion to let them prepare a celebration for your arrival.”

“That is acceptable,” piped in Elrond.  “But the ship that left prior to ours should have given word that we would be the next.”

“Indeed they did.  However, they did not know if a new ship would be built from scratch or if you would take whatever was available or if you would wait a few more years to tie up any loose ends or even what the weather conditions would be like.”

Now it was Maglor’s turn to interrupt.  “Practical enough.  But I believe you were told that not only the leaders of the Resistance would be coming but also a notorious criminal.  Were there no preparations made for that?”  The Teleri ner simply looked confused, and the Feanorian realized that he was far too young to have known who he was currently speaking to.  To make his point clear, the eldest Elf there slipped off his black leather glove and held out his hand, palm facing the other.  Even then, it took the Teler a few minutes to understand what the bright red design on his hand meant.  “Oh, uh, yes, we were informed.  Again though, we weren’t sure if the rumors that you had chosen to return was true.”  Maglor put his gloves back on and spared a bemused glance to his cousin and foster-son.  “Well, as you can see, it is.  Perhaps we might get things over with and you can escort me to Máhanaxar so that I may face the judgment of the Valar.”

Brown eyes looked away, the ner darting glances back at the Noldo.  “That won’t be necessary.  There will indeed be a trial over your actions back in the First Age, but the advocates from Tirion, Alqualondë and Tol Eressëa will need at least a month to prepare.  In the meantime, given your good behavior since then, your bond has been given to your family.  You can spend the wait in Formenos, catching up with them.”

“My family?  Surely you must be mistaken.  My mother and grandparents perhaps, but my family has been condemned unto the Void for being unable to fulfill our Oath.”

“With the exception of Maedhros, the rest of your family has returned from the Halls of Mandos.  And given that you’ve returned, I’m sure your last brother will also be released soon.”  Before any of the three Elves could comment, the Teleri delegate continued.  “I’m a bit surprised you mentioned facing the judgment of the Valar.  Surely Olorin and Aiwendil had mentioned that the Valar no longer rule Aman.”  That statement made even Galadriel jump.

“Truly?”

“The Valar have not ruled since the end of the Second Age.  Did not Curunír or any of the other Istari tell you so?”  Before they could respond, they heard Bilbo gasp behind them.  “Why Gandalf!  You look so young!”  Turning around they saw that Olorin had returned to his form of shining light.  (Trust a hobbit to describe it as looking young.)  Tired but still compassionate eyes looked over all of them.

“I think it’s time for you three to see the truth of Aman.”

The cavern was deep underground, underneath the crater of what had been the  Máhanaxar.  It was cut off from any wind or light.  Inside the gloom they could hear a thin, reedy voice, begging for news of the outside world, for someone to answer its cries.  “He once was the King of all the Valar in this world.  But when the Downfall of Numenor occurred, so too was the Ring of Judgment struck.  The Noldor eventually discovered this cavern while searching for new veins of ore.  Now he crawls alone in the dark, blind and deaf to anything around him.”

Galadriel and Elrond were struck speechless.  Only Maglor had the presence of mind to respond and even he took more than a few minutes to recover.  “How did this happen?”

Olorin shrugged, as much as any being of light could.  “The survivors are not certain but the most popular theory is that it is Eru’s punishment.  The Valar exist as custodians of Arda and as guides to the Children of Eru.  By the time of Numenor, it may have been that they had failed all their duties.”

“I can think of plenty of ways they failed the Elves but how did they fail otherwise.”

“They ruled the Firstborn but aside from the Maiar sent to help the creation of Numenor, ignored the Secondborn completely.  As for they’re other duties, they restricted themselves to Aman.”

“Some of that was fear of Melkor.  But even after he was gone, very little effort was made on their part to repair the damage from the war.”

“Exactly.  So when they called on Eru to defeat the Numenorean invasion, apparently Eru decided if they were going to be derelict in their duties, they should not have the benefits of power that went with their position.”

Eyes that still glowed with the light of the Trees contemplated the black hole in the ground.  “Surely they are not all like this.  The Telerin delegate mentioned Ulmo.”

“No.  Ulmo, Aulë, Irmo, Nienna, Estë and Vána have all been seen since then and appear to have retained their duties.  They have given up ruling the Firstborn but will offer advice if one seeks them out.”

“May we see any of the others?”

“The other Valar are scattered across Aman.  However, Yavanna is close by and we can walk to her prison within an hour.”

Not far indeed.  Yavanna was standing on the mound where the Trees had once grown.  The strike that had destroyed Máhanaxar had also caused the hills around it to cave in.  The Giver of Fruits was dressed in rags of brown and as far as she could see, nothing grew.  She did not move, staring at where her greatest creations had fallen.  “Not all of them are uncommunicative and still.  Varda and  Vairë were only struck blind-”

“Given those two, that’s punishment enough.” stated the Feanorian dryly.

“On the other hand, Nessa, Tulkas and Oromë were all encased in partially in stone.  And we’re not precisely sure about Mandos.  He still rules over the Dead in his Halls but he hasn’t left them since the end of the Second Age.”

“I’ll bet he makes no more prophecies either.”  The Vanyarin guide gave Maglor a funny look.  “You’re right about that.  How did you know?”

“It’s fairly obvious.  Eru must have quite a sense of irony or humor.   Manwë had the winds bring him news from all over the world now he knows nothing about anything.  Yavanna was in charge of growing things now all she sees is sterility and decay.  Nessa, Tulkas, they never stood still and now they can do nothing but.  Varda loved the light, all she sees is the dark.  For Mandos, he ruled over the Dead but also the living and pronounced Doom over the Firstborn.  Although I suppose he didn’t fail his duty, just tried to rule over the living Eldar and reduce their free will.  Maybe that’s why he’s still Ruler of the Dead.”

The blonde looked too much like his step-grandmother, and Maglor’s tone was more condescending than perhaps he intended.  “Tell me, did the decision to reduce themselves come before or after the end of the Second Age?”

“I-I don’t know.  Nienna, Ulmo and some of the others had long withdrawn away from Taniquetil before the Incident occurred.  But the others, Vana and Nienna were still seen.”

“Hmm, I’ll bet then, that the ones who were punished were the ones who voted to let Eru take care of the Numenorean problem.”

“I can’t confirm that.”

“I suppose even the Valar have their own secrets.” 

“Cousin.”  Maglor turned from where he was saddling a horse.  Last night it had been decided that he would await the trial in Formenos with his family.  Elrond would follow later, after meeting with his wife in Lorien.  Galadriel had not yet decided if she would go to Tirion to meet her parents but was staying longer on Tol Eressëa to take the time to make up her mind.

“Cousin,” he responded in kind.

“What you said yesterday, do you really believe the Valar deserved what happened to them?”

Glowing grey eyes looked into the same.  “Artanis, do you agree that the Valar abandoned their duties to Aman after the War of the Wrath?”

Reluctantly she nodded.  “Melkor was gone.  They could have helped us all rebuild and did not.”

“And do you agree that they also abandoned the Secondborn?”

“I’m not so sure about that.  But certainly, aside from the Gift, no aid ever came to them after the First Age.  And really, the only thing that happened before was Ulmo trying to warn Gondolin and that wasn’t even for the benefit of the Secondborn.”

“What about their treatment of Melkor?”

Here her face hardened.  “No, they were definitely in the wrong there.  It’s all well and good to say that Manwë didn’t understand evil, but even after being shown he was wrong, they took no responsibility for his actions until the War of Wrath.  Melkor was a Vala, one of them.  Instead, they abandoned the rest of us, Noldor, Secondborn, Sindar, everyone to the mercy of him and his lieutenants.”

“Then I take it the part you object to is their treatment of the Eldar?”

“Maglor, they are not like us.  They couldn’t possibly understand what they were doing was wrong.”

“Perhaps.  There have been times when I too want to believe they had good intentions and were merely misguided.  Certainly, the line between advising and guiding and actually ruling is very blurry.”  His eyes were as hard as hers.  “But even if I ignore the crimes to our family, that still leaves them guilty of three out of four charges.  And I think even one of those still shows an unforgivable breach of duty, with no signs of remorse or restitution in sight.  In my view, Eru is only handing out the just retribution those of Arda would inflict if they had the power to do so.”  He finished saddling the horse and easily mounted despite the scarred hand.

“Talk to others here, cousin.  Life is more complicated now than it was during the Years of the Trees.  But I think you will find most are satisfied with the trade-off of more responsibility in return for freedom.”