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Written for the Livejournal lotr_community's "Out on a Limb" challenge
“There is some work that may be accomplished once only,” she had said long ago, and such was the truth. But lately, an urge had been growing to set her hand to a new task, and the means to do so had arrived on yestereve's tide.
And so Yavanna had taken to herself the Rings of Sapphire, Adamant, and Ruby, still faintly a-glimmer with promise and purpose; and also the crystalline phial containing the essence of the Silmaril of Fëanor, its brilliance potent, and achingly familiar. All four had been freely given by their bearers, bestowing upon each person a great virtue.
She stood alone beneath the stars, murmuring words to each jewel in the pure language of Eä. Then she knelt and pressed them deeply into the moist earth with her own hands before rising, and spread her arms wide.
Her song was long in the weaving, but after twelve turnings of the Sun she felt the stirrings of new life beneath her feet, a pulsing eagerness. Here, in this verdant meadow, a sapling would rise, tall and fair. Its flowers of white and blue and rose would radiate warmth, their mingled fragrances and colors blending in harmony. And the light of each bloom would be soft, out of necessity, lest the eyes of the mortals who now dwelt here be overwhelmed.
She saw the Tree full-grown bringing forth sweet fruits, their seeds carried to far-flung gardens and lovingly tended. In time, new saplings – sons and daughters of living jewels – would flourish.
Each earth-gem had contributed its essence – vigor, healing, preservation, resolve. And so the faithful Maia, the weary hobbit children, Finarfin’s proud daughter, the Peredhel who had begun to mourn the separation from his home and loved ones... each would come in search of refreshment for their song. Here they would discover the opening notes that would guide their healing; she could already sense faint strains of Music.
All of this Yavanna perceived in her heart and mind before the seed had pushed out the first tendrils toward deep waters and open sky. Of the Tree that would stand here one thing alone she did not know: its name. It would be given by the small one who yet lingered in Middle-earth. Even now, her cherished gardener walked here in his dreams.
When all was prepared, she spoke a soft blessing to the earth, and felt it respond. And then she was gone, only a faint whisper of breeze and sparkle of air to mark her passing.
** END **
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