Belenos and Lihan Taifun
Nienna peers from behind the sturdy bulk of Aulë, watching Manwë anxiously, watching Yavanna, who holds the dagger. Her breathing is shallow, and she rocks nervously on her toes.
Yavanna turns to regard the Vala standing in front of her. Her green eyes take in the haughty stance, the provocative jut of her chin, and the mutinous line of the lips. Little remains of the gentle Vala of Compassion, whom she has known through so many Ages of time. She looks into those green slanted eyes, searching for the gentle compassion she had always found there. but there is none to be found. He gaze shifts to the one standing at Nienna's side. Aulë. Her Aulë. Her husband. Standing there, with a protective arm around Nienna and gazing at his wife as though she were a snake that had just crawled from the ground.
Yavanna's heart quails before that gaze. She had thought never to see that look in his eyes. True, there had been a time long ago, when he had brought the Dwarves into being, that they had clashed. He had hardened his heart to her pleas then, but it was nothing like what she saw now in those smoky eyes of his. "Aulë!" Her heart and soul cried out to him, but his gaze did not waver. Why? Because of the Vala by his side. Again she turned her gaze back to Nienna, and her eyes seemed to spark emerald shards as she spoke, "Step away from my husband."
Nienna's nostrils flare. "You decide who your husband stands beside? He crawls to do your bidding? It seems he does not. If he wishes to stand beside you, he is free to do so. Yet I see where he has chosen to stand, and with whom."
Yavanna gasps as the other Vala's words fall about her head like blows. She looks past Nienna to the chamber beyond. Could it really be the dark magicks that have caused this? But her gaze lingers on the luxurious sofa and the tousled sheets on the sumptuous bed. Her eyes narrow dangerously as she looks back to Nienna. Her shoulders square, and she straightens to her full height. Yavanna is tall for a female Vala, her body strong and hard with muscle from her work. She tosses her head and her hair whips around like a living thing, "Have you lost your wits, you simpering strumpet? What business is it of yours what happens between husband and wife? What gives you the right to play the consoling hussy? Or is this some new dimension to your role as Vala of Compassion? If it is, I fear for every good wife in Aman and Middle Earth if you are to be this compassionate with all husbands!"
Nienna 's voice rises defiantly. "Did I take him from you by force? If he was happy with you, why is he not beside you? If you had not driven him away with harsh words and petty demands, perhaps he would still be simpering in your home. But once you drove him away …" Words fail her, as her anger overwhelms rational thought. "Why should I explain anything to you? Why would I expect you to understand?" Yet part of the high color in Nienna's cheeks comes from the realization that most of what Aulë taught her about the physical world, he learned from this Yavanna.
Yavanna gasps again at the audacity of the other's words, "What makes you think you know what has happened between my husband and I. Yes, MY husband. Not yours! Mine!" She takes a step forward, and her hands clench at her sides in the heat of her anger, reminding her of the dagger she still holds. Raising her hand she looks at it, studying it. The blade is sharp and beautifully made. She can feel the fine balance of the weapon as she holds it before her. For a moment her focus shifts to the woman standing before her and then returns to the blade. A slow humorless smile spreads across her face and she looks squarely at the other Vala. "There are ways to deal with ones such as yourself. Those who not only cavort with another's husband but then dare to be so shameless about it. And you are about to learn of these ways, Nienna." With a dexterous movement Yavanna flicks the dagger in her hand, reversing her grasp upon it and slides it into the back of her waistband before she continues, "Unlike some who wish to make their own rules and pass their own judgments I defer, as always, to my Lord Manwë." Her eyes sweep over Nienna scornfully, "And you would be wise to remember your place and do the same."
Nienna 's eyes follow the dagger, as Yavanna's scornful words flow around her. Pulling herself up to the full height of this physical body, half a head shorter than Yavanna, she returns her cold gaze, and steps closer to Aulë's side, silently wrapping an arm around his waist.
Yavanna takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. This situation is so foreign to her. Her heart screams at her to scratch those eyes out that have beheld her Aulë's naked form, to break those hands that have touched that form and pummel that body that has welcomed that of her husband. But her head, her head says no. Again she looks to the chamber beyond. She can feel the evil there, coiled and lurking like a deadly miasma. No, her head says no, so her voice is gentle when she speaks, "Nienna, sweet Nienna whom I have known through the Ages, you are not yourself. He," she pauses and lets her glance sweep over her husband, "he is not himself either. Nothing will be gained by a shouting match between any of us. The only true way to resolve this is to trust in the one who has never let us down, to follow his advice and guidance, our beloved Lord of the West. Come child, peace. I await on Lord Manwë's words."
Yavanna turns to regard the Vala standing in front of her. Her green eyes take in the haughty stance, the provocative jut of her chin, and the mutinous line of the lips. Little remains of the gentle Vala of Compassion, whom she has known through so many Ages of time. She looks into those green slanted eyes, searching for the gentle compassion she had always found there. but there is none to be found. He gaze shifts to the one standing at Nienna's side. Aulë. Her Aulë. Her husband. Standing there, with a protective arm around Nienna and gazing at his wife as though she were a snake that had just crawled from the ground.
Yavanna's heart quails before that gaze. She had thought never to see that look in his eyes. True, there had been a time long ago, when he had brought the Dwarves into being, that they had clashed. He had hardened his heart to her pleas then, but it was nothing like what she saw now in those smoky eyes of his. "Aulë!" Her heart and soul cried out to him, but his gaze did not waver. Why? Because of the Vala by his side. Again she turned her gaze back to Nienna, and her eyes seemed to spark emerald shards as she spoke, "Step away from my husband."
Nienna's nostrils flare. "You decide who your husband stands beside? He crawls to do your bidding? It seems he does not. If he wishes to stand beside you, he is free to do so. Yet I see where he has chosen to stand, and with whom."
Yavanna gasps as the other Vala's words fall about her head like blows. She looks past Nienna to the chamber beyond. Could it really be the dark magicks that have caused this? But her gaze lingers on the luxurious sofa and the tousled sheets on the sumptuous bed. Her eyes narrow dangerously as she looks back to Nienna. Her shoulders square, and she straightens to her full height. Yavanna is tall for a female Vala, her body strong and hard with muscle from her work. She tosses her head and her hair whips around like a living thing, "Have you lost your wits, you simpering strumpet? What business is it of yours what happens between husband and wife? What gives you the right to play the consoling hussy? Or is this some new dimension to your role as Vala of Compassion? If it is, I fear for every good wife in Aman and Middle Earth if you are to be this compassionate with all husbands!" Nienna 's voice rises defiantly. "Did I take him from you by force? If he was happy with you, why is he not beside you? If you had not driven him away with harsh words and petty demands, perhaps he would still be simpering in your home. But once you drove him away …" Words fail her, as her anger overwhelms rational thought. "Why should I explain anything to you? Why would I expect you to understand?" Yet part of the high color in Nienna's cheeks comes from the realization that most of what Aulë taught her about the physical world, he learned from this Yavanna.
Nienna 's eyes follow the dagger, as Yavanna's scornful words flow around her. Pulling herself up to the full height of this physical body, half a head shorter than Yavanna, she returns her cold gaze, and steps closer to Aulë's side, silently wrapping an arm around his waist.
Yavanna takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. This situation is so foreign to her. Her heart screams at her to scratch those eyes out that have beheld her Aulë's naked form, to break those hands that have touched that form and pummel that body that has welcomed that of her husband. But her head, her head says no. Again she looks to the chamber beyond. She can feel the evil there, coiled and lurking like a deadly miasma. No, her head says no, so her voice is gentle when she speaks, "Nienna, sweet Nienna whom I have known through the Ages, you are not yourself. He," she pauses and lets her glance sweep over her husband, "he is not himself either. Nothing will be gained by a shouting match between any of us. The only true way to resolve this is to trust in the one who has never let us down, to follow his advice and guidance, our beloved Lord of the West. Come child, peace. I await on Lord Manwë's words."