Belenos
"Where is Aule?" she had said, and Yavanna had turned her back, unable to bear the sight of the Vala of Compassion rushing to the Lord of the West, eagerly asking after Yavanna's husband. She hears no more through the rush of rage that fills her. With all her heart she wishes she were elsewhere. Anywhere. Anywhere, but here where all she knows is pain, where all she can think are thoughts of rage and betrayal. Their voices become muffled, and the red film that clouds her vision grows darker as despair swirls in her heart.
"Where is Aule?" The words whirl round and around in her head, until they seem to suck her very being into a dark vortex of anguish. She closes her eyes in an effort to shut out the images that form, uninvited, of Nienna and Aule together, pressing her eyelids tight shut. "No!" she cries silently, unable anymore to face the knowledge that was forever hers. "No!" her heart cries out, unable to accept the betrayal. Never in all the Ages had the spouse of a Vala betrayed them in such a way. Neither had her work nurturing the growing things of the world brought her into contact with the children of men, so she did not even have second-hand experience or understanding to draw upon. All she had was her raw pain. "No!" she gasps aloud. The roaring in her ears grows thunderous, and she staggers from the intensity of it.
Her eyes fly open as she struggles to keep her balance. The darkness within slowly recedes until it is nothing more than a dark stormcloud upon the distant horizon on her mind. Blinking, Yavanna looks around her. She is alone, completely alone and in a forest, a dark forest. She blinks more. No, not so dark a forest. Looking up through the leafy canopy she sees a midnight sky. She frowns a little. What was she doing in a forest at night?
The dark cloud in her mind rumbles as with distant thunder as she struggles to think how she came to be here. Uncertain, she stumbles to the base of a tree, sitting like a frightened child, knees tucked up and wary. Frowning, she concentrates, trying to remember how she got here, but in her mind there is only a dark painful void where memory should be. For the woman sitting so lost and forlorn by the tree, there is nothing before now. There is no memory of Ages that have passed, no knowledge of her great title of Queen of the Earth. For her there is only now, the rough texture of the treebark through her cloak, the earthy smell of the moss beneath her sandalled feet and the crisp smell of pine needles from the trees around her. The stars continue their nightly dance across the heavens above as she sits, afraid and uncertain of what to do.
Yavanna shivers a little and pulls her cloak more tightly around her. Questions fly through her mind. Where is she? Where had she come from? What had possessed her to be in a forest at night so lightly attired? Surely she has not come far. Looking around her she peers through the darkness in search of light. Surely she must live somewhere close by. Perhaps if she looks she might find her home, or at least a settlment where someone might know her. Rising to her feet she makes her way through the forest, her eyes accustomed to the dark now. She could hear the sound of a not-too-distant shore. Thinking to get her bearings that way, or perhaps see something familiar, she follows the sound. In the darkness of the night she does not notice how the grass around where she sat has wilted and browned, nor does she see how the bark of the tree upon which she leaned has become dry and sere as though from great age.
The trees gradually thin, and the sky begins to lighten by the time Yavanna finds the shore. However it is not a low coastal beach, but a high rocky cliff. The waves below boom against the rocks, and the ground beneath her feet resonates a little with the force of them. For a moment she forgets her quest and stares entranced at the beauty of the new morning that rises from the distant horizon and shimmers gold and rose across the ocean below. She stands there barefoot, sandals lost somewhere during the night, spellbound. As she watches, an overwhelming despair envelopes her, and her lashes glisten with unshed tears that tremble there before finally tumbling down her cheeks. Wonderingly she raises a hand and feels the dampness on her face. Why do I cry? But there is no answer except that distant rumble somewhere, somewhere deep and lost now below the horizon of her mind. Bleakly she turns her back upon the beauty. There is nothing here she recognises.
As she walks on through the early morning, the forest around her seems to whisper and sigh mournfully. Birdsong halts in mid-chorus, and the small furred things of the forest pause in their scurryings, ears downcast and eyes soulful as they watch her pass from beneath the undergrowth. Lost in her thoughts Yavanna is unaware of the effect of her passing. The air is beginning to warm, and the gooseflesh on her skin has receded when at last she stands on a grassy knoll overlooking a wild valley. There is no woodsmoke from an early morning cookfire rising from among the trees. She will find no habitation down there. Yet the valley calls her. She does not know that she is drawn to the beautiful things that she herself created. All she knows is that it draws her. She stands uncertain, before finally resolute, she turns to make her way down to the valley. She does not know where the path would take her, but then she does not know which path has brought her here. Shrugging, she whispers, "As long as it takes me away."
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"Where is Aule?" The words whirl round and around in her head, until they seem to suck her very being into a dark vortex of anguish. She closes her eyes in an effort to shut out the images that form, uninvited, of Nienna and Aule together, pressing her eyelids tight shut. "No!" she cries silently, unable anymore to face the knowledge that was forever hers. "No!" her heart cries out, unable to accept the betrayal. Never in all the Ages had the spouse of a Vala betrayed them in such a way. Neither had her work nurturing the growing things of the world brought her into contact with the children of men, so she did not even have second-hand experience or understanding to draw upon. All she had was her raw pain. "No!" she gasps aloud. The roaring in her ears grows thunderous, and she staggers from the intensity of it.
Her eyes fly open as she struggles to keep her balance. The darkness within slowly recedes until it is nothing more than a dark stormcloud upon the distant horizon on her mind. Blinking, Yavanna looks around her. She is alone, completely alone and in a forest, a dark forest. She blinks more. No, not so dark a forest. Looking up through the leafy canopy she sees a midnight sky. She frowns a little. What was she doing in a forest at night?
The dark cloud in her mind rumbles as with distant thunder as she struggles to think how she came to be here. Uncertain, she stumbles to the base of a tree, sitting like a frightened child, knees tucked up and wary. Frowning, she concentrates, trying to remember how she got here, but in her mind there is only a dark painful void where memory should be. For the woman sitting so lost and forlorn by the tree, there is nothing before now. There is no memory of Ages that have passed, no knowledge of her great title of Queen of the Earth. For her there is only now, the rough texture of the treebark through her cloak, the earthy smell of the moss beneath her sandalled feet and the crisp smell of pine needles from the trees around her. The stars continue their nightly dance across the heavens above as she sits, afraid and uncertain of what to do.
Yavanna shivers a little and pulls her cloak more tightly around her. Questions fly through her mind. Where is she? Where had she come from? What had possessed her to be in a forest at night so lightly attired? Surely she has not come far. Looking around her she peers through the darkness in search of light. Surely she must live somewhere close by. Perhaps if she looks she might find her home, or at least a settlment where someone might know her. Rising to her feet she makes her way through the forest, her eyes accustomed to the dark now. She could hear the sound of a not-too-distant shore. Thinking to get her bearings that way, or perhaps see something familiar, she follows the sound. In the darkness of the night she does not notice how the grass around where she sat has wilted and browned, nor does she see how the bark of the tree upon which she leaned has become dry and sere as though from great age.
The trees gradually thin, and the sky begins to lighten by the time Yavanna finds the shore. However it is not a low coastal beach, but a high rocky cliff. The waves below boom against the rocks, and the ground beneath her feet resonates a little with the force of them. For a moment she forgets her quest and stares entranced at the beauty of the new morning that rises from the distant horizon and shimmers gold and rose across the ocean below. She stands there barefoot, sandals lost somewhere during the night, spellbound. As she watches, an overwhelming despair envelopes her, and her lashes glisten with unshed tears that tremble there before finally tumbling down her cheeks. Wonderingly she raises a hand and feels the dampness on her face. Why do I cry? But there is no answer except that distant rumble somewhere, somewhere deep and lost now below the horizon of her mind. Bleakly she turns her back upon the beauty. There is nothing here she recognises.
As she walks on through the early morning, the forest around her seems to whisper and sigh mournfully. Birdsong halts in mid-chorus, and the small furred things of the forest pause in their scurryings, ears downcast and eyes soulful as they watch her pass from beneath the undergrowth. Lost in her thoughts Yavanna is unaware of the effect of her passing. The air is beginning to warm, and the gooseflesh on her skin has receded when at last she stands on a grassy knoll overlooking a wild valley. There is no woodsmoke from an early morning cookfire rising from among the trees. She will find no habitation down there. Yet the valley calls her. She does not know that she is drawn to the beautiful things that she herself created. All she knows is that it draws her. She stands uncertain, before finally resolute, she turns to make her way down to the valley. She does not know where the path would take her, but then she does not know which path has brought her here. Shrugging, she whispers, "As long as it takes me away."
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