Along Came A Spider by Aearwen2

Chapter 1 - In The Beginning

The first thing she could sense was Intent, and slow growth of understanding as to what was to come.  And the Intent questioned her, pushed her to find a voice; and then poured approval and encouragement for her to do more.  Then, finally, purpose was given and direction; and a slow realization came that hers was not the only voice.  Each of the others was soft, uncertain, different but so much the same, each bringing a unique timbre and emphasis.  As each voice became familiar, she discovered she could reach out with her own song and touch the others - exploring them through their responses to her, exploring herself through hers to them. 

She floated, her voice raised in harmony, content to let the phrases and refrains pull her this way and that through whatever undefined substance lay beyond.  Sometimes alone, sometimes together, slowly coalescing, growing stronger; until suddenly the Intent gave leave for all the voices to sing together in a Great Work. 

At first, she was afraid, intimidated at the magnitude of what was intended and her place in it; but again she was filled with approval and encouragement.  Inspired, she raised her voice with the others.

The result was Music - pure, all-pervasive, compelling.  Glorious.  And she was both part of it and yet, somehow, separate from it.

She sang and reveled in the singing, until she suddenly noticed that one voice had begun to move against the harmony.  Her voice faltered as she debated whether to continue singing with the others or to try to harmonize with this new strain.  Yet, even as she considered, the Intent poured through her again; and the Music renewed itself and changed.  Once more she lifted her voice gratefully and shared in the harmonies and descants, until once more the strident voice began to struggle for dominance and made her again hesitate. 

A third time the Intent poured through her and changed the very nature of the Music into something delicate and yet profound.  But even as this new theme gained momentum and strength, already the other voice was raised in competition, now actively seeking to control through overwhelming.

Suddenly, with a chord that was deafening and soul-searing, the Music ceased; and the voice of the Intent rolled through her, naming itself as Ilúvatar and the other voices collectively as Ainur and then gave each individual voice - except her - its own name.  It announced the owner of the competing voice as Melkor, and then pronounced Melkor as the most powerful of them all.  It began to show the Ainur what had been accomplished through the power and majesty of their Music: the beauty of the mind of Ilúvatar as manifest in the new World and the colors and substances that filled that World.  And Ilúvatar revealed the pinnacle of his Intent, drawing back and allowing them to glimpse Children - Children who would walk and live in the World eventually.

Each of the voices seemed drawn to one particular aspect of this new World, as if drawn to lend willing, deliberate effort to crafting the world more completely in preparation for the Children.  Ulmo, the deepest voice, was drawn to the waters; Aulë to the shining minerals that lay hidden.  Manwë was drawn to the stuff of the air, Yavanna to the growing things.  As each discovered their separate minstrelsies, each seemed to grow in understanding what Ilúvatar wished for them to accomplish and strive harder.  She, on the other hand, while still unnamed, found herself drawn to the places where the light did not seem to penetrate; those places which seemed abandoned by the rest. 

All of the others with whom she had sung seemed to delight more in the Light, but the Darkness was cool; it soothed and caressed her, speaking of mysteries and secrets.  She could feel the fear and confusion of the others swell at this contrary choice of hers, even as she felt and heard the command of Ilúvatar that lit the Flame Imperishable and set forth Arda - the World that Is - like a gem.  Drawn she was to this Arda, and yet she hesitated within the comforting chill of her Darkness.

Into her mind, now, came the voice of Ilúvatar, soft and intimate.  To you, child of my Intent, is given a different, more difficult task.  Even as it was necessary to destroy the perfection of the Void to allow this new World to come into being, each act of Creation will necessarily require some act of Destruction to precede it.  Were this not so, the Void itself would fill eventually with all that is to come until Creation itself becomes All There Is.  It is only meet that such necessary acts of Destruction take place in darkness and mystery; for the very acts of Creation themselves are mysteries revealed, and your works must and will balance them.  Take, then, this Darkness, and make of it a crucible from which the stuff of Creation can spring.

She rejoiced, realizing now that she had been given her understanding and inspiration for her own minstrelsy.  But Lord, she wondered in reply, have I no name, like the others?

Child of my Intent, my Darkest Daughter, just as the processes of your domain are the remote and secret corners of my Intent, your true name must remain hidden and secret as well.  Never fear, however; in time, the World will name you.  Join your brothers and sisters in Arda, Daughter, and know that you are as much a part of it as any of them.

Content that she had not been overlooked - that her lack of a name was part of her Dark Nature now revealed to her - she settled into her element within the bounds of Arda and began to make of both her own abode.

oOoOo

The company of those who had chosen to dwell and labor in this New World did not remain unified in their intents any better than they had in the singing of the Music that had brought it forth.  Melkor ever sought to control and rule the others, claiming the New World to be of his holding alone.  In answer, Manwë summoned together all others now bound to Arda, even the lesser spirits - Valar, they now were called, and the lesser spirits Maiar - and refuted Melkor's claim.  In her heart, she agreed that Melkor had overstepped himself greatly; for had not she as well as all her other brothers and sisters labored hard within their separate realms to nurture and grow the World to be suitable for Ilúvatar's Children?  Together, she and the rest of the Valar repudiated him and sent him forth.

Over the course of this first fractious reunion, she discovered herself much like the others who chose to immerse themselves in Arda: knowing the forms of the Children to be pleasing to Ilúvatar, she garbed herself in similar manner.  When she moved among her brothers and sisters - although it only happened very rarely - she knew her raiment to be pleasing to them as well.  She had used her chosen element and wove it about her.  Her hair became a curtain of silky Darkness that hung nearly to her feet, her skin had a hint of Darkness that, in the light of the New World's fires, appeared a warm contrast to the pale and shining garb of her siblings.  In her dark eyes, however, shone the same glimmer of vision and understanding that all of them shared. 

But when alone, she walked without raiment, for the Darkness was all she needed and there was no need to be anything other than what she was.  And as the World - and all of those who were bound to it - entered the stream of Time, she found that Ages could pass for her in the solitude of her beloved Darkness.  From that stronghold, she could watch the comings and goings of her siblings and, gently and quietly, make room among that which had already been wrought for what was to come. 

She knew, from the Music that still surrounded her, that her fellow Valar appreciated her help; but she could also begin to sense that their unease at her willingness to take that which was already wrought and destroy it without compunction was growing.  Knowing this, she withdrew deeper into her shadows and Darkness, eschewing their company when all would gather.  So must have been the Intent of Ilúvatar, she decided, that part of the difficulty set before her would be her estrangement of all her own kind.

As the argument and combativeness between Melkor and the Valar went back and forth, she discovered that the power of the enmity expressed between each left gaps and passageways through the slowly evolving World.  Delighted with this, she spent untold time exploring these winding mazes of space so conveniently filled with soothing Darkness, rejoicing in the silent, secret manner in which Darkness was finding ways to insinuate itself into this light-intensive world and in the creatures that began to share the Darkness with her now. 

And yet, she could not ignore or shirk the other task that had been appointed to her.  From the shelter of her Darkness, she could still listen to songs and labors of her brothers and sisters; and she would quietly, gently, ruthlessly clear the path of what was in the way of the next act of Creation or renewal or change that was to come.  She did not understand the thinking of her siblings; why could they not see that the way had to be made to make a place for their efforts?  Their responses to her work no longer included gratitude, but rather fear and disgust.

They do not understand you.  They are the poorer for it, but do not understand that either.

Where did that come from?  She hesitated - and remembered.  She knew that voice well.  It was one she had heard often enough before; heard and hesitated, tempted to join her harmony to that one: Melkor.

Their minds are closed; they do not consider anything outside what they have chosen to understand.

That was certainly true and growing more and more definite with each necessary intrusion of her lovely Darkness into their accursed Light.  And yet, you understand? she sang softly and hesitantly.

Have they not also tried to relegate me to Darkness? was the response.  I only wish to see that all happens as it is destined.  I am the most powerful, even Ilúvatar named me thusly; is it not possible that I might know more of Ilúvatar's Intent than they?

Quickly, she closed her mind away from his and took note of his words.  Melkor had obviously lost none of his arrogance since his rebuke by the others.  But, then, why should he have?  Had not the Valar, their siblings, withdrawn their fellowship from him in much the same way they now had withdrawn it from her?  Perhaps they were jealous of Melkor - or simply didn't understand him?  Could it be so simple?

None of us know the fullness of Ilúvatar's Intent, she answered finally.  But… But… It was a heretical thought, totally in contradiction to everything she had thought before.  But now, after being shunned and denied the gratitude for all of her hard work to make room for the newer creations, she finally had cause to question.  But perhaps you know more of it after all. Do you truly claim this?

She could hear the very soft echoes of satisfaction.  Is such a thing so hard to believe?  Is it any more difficult to understand than the need for Darkness and the powers of Destruction? To the both of us, Ilúvatar has given difficult tasks and choices: of both Creation and Destruction; but to the others has only been given such simplicity as smaller minds can understand - the powers of Creation alone. 

Was she really that similar to Melkor?  The very idea that she might have companionship, after the Ages she had spent alone in her Darkness, was intoxicating.  You find the Darkness comforting, as I do? I have learned not to fear it.  It serves a function, as does every other element of Arda.

You do understand!  Her joy at the very thought that she could speak of her Darkness, of the task appointed her by Ilúvatar, made her feel as if she were young again and just newly discovered of her voice in the Music. 

Does it please you, to know that you need no longer be alone in the Darkness?   

You… you would enter the Darkness willingly?  None of the others had come anywhere near her Darkness - ever.

I am already here.

And this time, when Melkor began his song, she ignored everything else being sung and harmonized her voice with his unapologetically.  Suddenly she thrilled to the surety that he had wrapped his very essence around and into hers, joining with her in a way that surpassed even the harmony they shared through their song.  Finally she knew, after long Ages, that she was no longer alone; and she rejoiced.

oOoOo

How long has it been since you have left the Darkness, my lady? 

She paused in her enjoyment of having Melkor's entire being wrapped around and through hers again after yet another long separation.  Such congress had become the highlight of their relationship when they were together, even as Melkor had reported most of the other Valar had joined in pairs as well - male with female.  Time has very little meaning here, my lord; you know this.  Why? What have you seen since last we were together? 

It seems that Aulë has recently crafted an abomination - lamps that mimic the Flame Imperishable and cast Light into nearly every corner of Arda.  Melkor's voice shook so much with rage, he could hardly hold his tones steady.  You will find it more difficult to do your work now - the Darkness has receded from many places that you are accustomed to walking unseen. 

She sniffed.  It would be Aulë who would do such a thing.  He had taken unto himself the very foundations of Eä, and then prided himself on his skill in crafting things derived from the substances found in that foundation.  Ilúvatar allows this? 

Ilúvatar does nothing to hinder or help any longer.  He sits back and watches only.  After everything, he has abandoned Arda to the Valar - to the others, that is. 

The thought was disturbing.  Surely not abandoned!  Ever has he informed us of his Intent; we know we prepare the way for His Children… 

His Children!  Melkor hissed.  We labor constantly for His Children, and yet you and I, who also labor for them, receive so very little gratitude for our efforts; not from the others, and certainly not from Ilúvatar.  How is it come about that we continue in our darker tasks, as appointed, and yet share in none of the blessings? 

Blessings?  What in Eä was he talking about now?

Yes, blessings.  She worked hard not to flinch at the bitterness that flooded their joined essences.  The others assume even the right to tell you what to do in your Darkness now, do they not?  They enjoy the blessings of knowing themselves Lords of Eä, as beloved of Ilúvatar, uncontested rulers of All That Is.  How is it, do you think, that you and I have suddenly been robbed of our rightful places as equal Lord and Lady of Arda? 

We would not be denied… 

My sweet and foolish one; we are already denied.  Those lamps force back the Darkness, restricting that part of Arda to which you would be most comfortable inhabiting; and in so doing, seek to bind us both.   

They fear the Darkness, it is true; but why do you say… 

Melkor's essence seemed to heat to the point that it almost burned her, within and without.  Go without and see for yourself what our brothers and sisters have wrought in a World that we all are supposed to share without even a by your leave.  His essence then withdrew from her so abruptly that its loss was painful.  Go.  You need to discern the truth for yourself.  I already know what awaits you; I will be here to soothe and heal you when you return. 

She gazed in the direction of the opening in Arda that led into the Light.  Was Melkor telling her the truth?  She moved forward, and grew alarmed as she did; for the Light that now poured through that hole in the side of the mountain was now brighter and warmer than anything she'd ever experienced since drawing into her beloved Darkness and away from the Flame Imperishable Itself. 

You should probably shield yourself, my lady.  The light from the infernal Lamps burns.

She could feel the heat already.  I've seen enough, she told him.  I have no wish to leave the Darkness.  You speak the truth. 

You need to see, he insisted angrily.  How can you know full extent of the truth if you do not test it for yourself? 

I can see enough from here.  I do not need to burn myself to prove your words more fully. 

Shield yourself, and you will not burn.  You will need this shield in future in order to do your appointed task anyway; why do you hesitate to create what you will need? 

Create?  She could feel her entire being hesitate.  Not once had she Created anything.  Did she even possess the wherewithal to do so?  Quickly she hid away those thoughts; it would not do to expose her weakness to Melkor.  He needed to see her as strong and capable.  But he was right: the Light burned, and she would need to protect herself if she hoped to move in it at all.  What was she going to do? 

I would take my time and design my shield carefully, she hedged.  This I cannot do if you insist I leave the Darkness now.  Once designed, this shield I will probably never remove again. 

Melkor's voice grew soft and tender.  But if you never remove it, I  would not be able to touch you again, my Dark Lady.  Is that what you truly want? 

I did not say that my shield would prevent you…  Still, she ached from the heat of Melkor's temper.  Could the burn of Aulë's lamps be any worse? 

You would deny the blending of our essences by refusing to remove your shield to me. 

Rather, you would refuse to enter the shelter of my shield to blend our essences.  I do not understand you, my Dark Lord.  You would force me to Create, and then deny me the sanctuary when you visit lest I be denied your touch. 

She turned from him and moved away from the burning brightness that was the outer World with its hideous Lamps.  This was becoming a habit with him, arguing and coercing her to do things as he wished them to be done; and the few times she had resisted before, he had threatened her with the loss of his presence as well.  As much as she craved him in the long spaces of time when he was about his own business, she didn't like the idea she was being manipulated.

I do this for your own good, my Dark Lady.  My Intents are more aligned with… 

And how many times had she heard "I do this for your own good," as if she were a simpleton or unintelligent?  I sometimes wonder, she hissed back, finally feeling her own temper begin to rise.  I am not a servant to you, regardless you treat me as such.  I am Ainur, as you are, granted a task more difficult and controversial than the others can handle.  

You are no servant, he said in a soft and beguiling tone.  You are my Dark Lady, the only one who understands me, the only one I would ever allow to…  His essence swirled about hers, warm and gentle, soothing and caring, calming and coercive.  We are two of a kind, you and I.  We compliment the other, both of us creatures of Darkness, neither of us given the kind of assistance that the Others were accorded.  We should help each other, you and I; for no one - not the Others, not even Ilúvatar Himself - seems inclined to assist either of us in the least.  But we understand each other, do we not?  And does not the Darkness seem more wholesome when we are together?

She could deny him nothing when he was like this, and she gave a small sigh of pleasure as she felt herself possessed once more.  And yet, a small corner of her mind opened itself and did more than just experience the joining; it sought out the center of Creative force nestled deep within his essence and absorbed a tiny piece of it for herself, locking it away in a far and close corner of her most hidden being, where it could not be found by its progenitor unless she so desired. 

After all, why should she not also share in the powers of Creation that had been given even the likes of Melkor?  It wasn't entirely fair for Ilúvatar to give to her the more difficult task of knowing when, where and why to Destroy to make way for the New without also sharing the ability to Create within the Darkness!  I take only that which should have been accorded me in the first place! she told herself with a rush of defensiveness, holding the thought as close and secret as the Creative force she had stolen.  Ilúvatar should not have forgotten me in that way! 

Then, contented with the idea that she had righted a great wrong against her perpetrated by the Creator Himself, she relaxed and luxuriated in the regard and companionship and pleasure that came only with being with Melkor.  Two could play at the manipulation game; and she'd been learning the rules of the game from the Master.  The time rapidly approached when she would have to practice what she'd been taught.

Chapter 2 - Darkness Ascendant

After Melkor left her the next time, promising to return when his efforts permitted, she finally began to think about how she was going to protect herself from the burning Light.  She studied the creatures that had eventually come to join her in the Darkness, judging their forms and habits and imagining herself in their place.  At last she chose the one that seemed best suited to the twisting, winding cracks in Arda: one with enough legs to give her stability in whatever spot or position she might find herself, with enough eyes to penetrated even the thickest part of the Darkness, and with a shell that was hard and tough. 

She then took a tiny portion of the Creative force that she had stolen from Melkor and turned it to the task of creating her new form, her shield; and when she was done, she was quite pleased with herself.  Sleek it was, comfortable and secure.  And like the creatures upon which she had based her design, she had given herself the ability to continue to create in a lesser way; where the smaller creatures of her Dark wove fine silk into delicate curtains, her silk was strong and impossible to escape.  Setting that silk into curtains across well-traveled pathways never failed to capture stray creatures from Outside that had foolishly ventured into the Dark.

So it was that she discovered that, in this new form, she could hunger; yet with her silks, she could provide for herself.  It was a small act of Destruction, nothing that she hadn't done many, many times before; only for the first time, she served her own purposes rather than those of the ungrateful Ones who dwelt in the Light.  After the very first, she waited, fearing that Ilúvatar would speak to her and condemn her actions when not done to further His Intent, or for having stolen the ability to Create.  Then she began to wonder if Melkor had been right after all, that Ilúvatar now sat back and merely watched as she and her siblings worked to prepare Arda for the coming of the Children of his Intent, no longer interfering or directing their actions at all.  Encouraged when she drew neither censure nor ire, she cast her silken curtains wide and fed well.

In time, she even dared take her new form to the very edge of the Light, and she discovered that while the Light no longer burned, it blinded her.  No, in this form into which she had sealed herself, she would forever be a creature of the Darkness and its associated Shadows; but this she did not mind.  She had been a creature of Darkness from the very start, and it was fitting that she remain so. 

Curious now, she began to test her skills and the capabilities in this new form and the bit of Creativity it included.  Experimentation taught her that it was possible to use her silks and the gases that she could create within her to steal back pieces of Arda that the Light had stolen from her.  Light itself could be consumed, and doing so increased both her size and her hunger.  But she still remained true to her appointed task; for it would be a way to keep Ilúvatar from discerning and possibly punishing her for straying from his Intent.  Between creating her own Darkness and hiding her movements within the cracks of the World, she could continue the acts of Destruction needed by the Others without exposing herself to the Light. 

However, she was beginning to question her own diligence.  Trapped she was within her beloved Darkness and in a form that she dared not leave - although willingly so on both counts - but she was also despised by the Others both for her chosen realm and the task she performed for them.  This abuse, this denigration of what should have been appreciated, rankled more and more as time passed; and slowly her willingness to Destroy only that which was needed to make way for the New created by the Others abated. 

After all, why should she labor on behalf of Others, only to reap derision and disgust as her reward?  Why should her acts of Destruction not bring her greater power, greater control?  Why should she, the forgotten, abused, mistreated Dark Daughter of Ilúvatar, entrusted with the more difficult task of clearing the way for new Creation, not enjoy some of the same benefits that her simpler-minded siblings enjoyed with impunity?  After all, was that not why she had stolen Creative force from her Dark Lord in the first place?  In the Darkness and the loneliness of Melkor's now-prolonged absence, her temper simmered and her resentment grew. 

And yet, close to the Light she remained, although growing ever more resentful of it.  Spinning her curtains of Dark silk, she crept along the hidden pathways of Arda, and yet she had become needful of what only the Light provided.  Her hunger had grown to where she required the larger creatures of Light to sustain her, or indeed the Light itself as she reclaimed her bits of Arda; she dared not retreat unto the deepest corners of the Darkness to dwell.  Her hatred for Light and for all of those who walked so freely and proudly beneath it grew apace of her need for what the Light could provide her. 

In the fullness of time, she began to hear rumors, carried into the Darkness by those of her Dark creatures who could yet bear the Light, of a Dark Fortress being built by Melkor.  And in her heart, she rejoiced even as she begrudged him the time and effort it was taking him to create such a citadel.  Still, it was a statement with which she heartily concurred.  Melkor had ever been ready to stand in the faces of the Others, challenging them for control over this Arda and the Children who would fill it.  As much as he had no more right to possess Arda than the Others did, it pleased her to think that he continued to challenge their dominance.

Lonely for her lover and curious besides, she made her way northward to the mountains on the very edge of Creation where it was rumored the entrance to this Dark Fortress could be found.  The closer she crept to the darkest peak, the more she discovered the much-vaunted beauty of the various acts of Creation in Arda had been overshadowed and changed.  Melkor's shadow had grown long indeed - almost as long as her own.  While creatures of the Light still abounded nearby, they were stunted and twisted into noxious pestilences that sought the Shadow as often as they did the Light.  Water flowed, but it was choked with slime and mud and filth, and stank.  The trees of the forests grew rank and chaotic, with limbs that twisted and were overhung with dank mosses; and beneath their branches hunted malignant and merciless predators who preferred the Shadows to the Light. 

She celebrated the victory of Shadow over Light beneath the twisted trees, surrounded by creatures who were amazed to see One who was more one of them than of the hated Others.  She even brought forth another mote of her stolen Creative force and set it to maturing deep within her until, with a bit of effort and painful labor, she produced a small sac of eggs which she hung in a high branch of the dankest tree.  Ilúvatar had used his Intent to create His Children, she could do no less than He.  In the fullness of time, it pleased her to think that her sons and daughters would rule the forests outside the fortress of their sire; that their existence would challenge Melkor without his even being aware of it.

Being so familiar with the way the manner in which the world had been folded and cracked and twisted, she soon found a way into the depths of the mountain, and the entrance to Melkor's new domain.  The magnitude of it was daunting, but soon enough she could feel the echoes of his being, and knew she had found him.

But he knew not that she had approached, for he was exercising his anger and his thoughts thundered throughout the hallways and into every darkened corner.  Manwë!  She had to choose Manwë!  I am the eldest, the strongest, the one who understands the most of Ilúvatar's Intent!  Varda belonged to ME!  How dare she scatter crystals of light and destroy the perfection of Ilmen, supposedly as gifts to me, and then run for compliments to her lover? How dare she throw my gifts of love back in my face, or tell me to take myself back to that abomination of Darkness who now grows bloated and ugly on the nectar of the lives of other creatures. 

The day will come when she will regret choosing him over me.  I, who would have loved her with every mote of my being!   She will never be content with him.  I foresee this.  And I shall make them all pay for her arrogance, her obsession with Light and things of Light and Air.  Arda will be mine, the Children will worship ME, and I will crush Manwë for stealing her from me! 

She withdrew, shocked beyond all measure.  But…  He said he loved me…  Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to put as much distance between herself and her betrayer as possible.  He told me he was working toward building us a place where we could rule in the Darkness together.  But he called me bloated.  Ugly.  An abomination.

He loved… loves… Varda? 

Her pain and fury knew no bounds, and she writhed in agony.

He's no better than any of the Others!  No, he's worse; at least the Others have never hidden their revulsion of what I have become, of what I do.  I would bear their honest disgust far more willingly than Melkor's lying fawning.

He deceived me!  I hate him.  I shall hate him forever. 

Sickened by even the thought of the moments of intimate sharing they had had in the past, she reached into herself and pulled out the remainder of the unspent Creative force that she had stolen from Melkor and found the deepest, darkest corner of the nearby Darkness into which to thrust it.  Untended, un-nourished, it would hopefully languish and die, just as she wished Melkor would. 

I would tell Manwë of this Fortress, if I did not find the idea of a coming conflict between the Arrogant and the Faithless so amusing.  Let them battle between themselves.  I shall sit in my Darkness and feed on all that remains, outlasting them all! 

But she could not remove all that she had stolen; the mote of Creative force she had taken into herself to create the daughters she'd left on their sire's doorstep had been more powerful than she had imagined - and in taking it in as she had, it had become a part of her, impossible to excise.  So, as she spun her webs to ease and conceal her way back to her beloved Darkness, she found she had to fashion more of the egg sacs from time to time.  These lesser, accidental children she deposited in the Shadows as best she could, finding smaller cracks into the twisted maze of tunnels beneath Arda into which to thrust them. 

They, too, would have to survive untended, un-nurtured, unwanted even by her; even as she had had to endure the long Ages unloved, untended, unappreciated.  As unexpected and unpleasant as this was, it however suited her to think that she too was now doing her part to populate the World, and that her Children would in time share Arda with those of Ilúvatar.  There would be Children of Darkness to balance the Children of Light.

oOoOo

The journey back to her home, to the nooks and crannies in the bowels of Arda that were so familiar that she need not use her eyes, took a long time.  By now, the Others knew of Melkor's Fortress and were actively seeking it; and she didn't want to be caught up and questioned closely about her knowledge.  So she wove her silken webs with care, only feeding enough to maintain her strength and in return leaving sacs of eggs and patches of reclaimed Darkness behind her.

But barely had she gained the opening into her extensive Dark Realm again when she felt the beginnings of rumbling beneath her many feet, a rumbling that only grew and became more violent.  She scrambled into her Darkness and, panicked, rolled a huge boulder into the opening, blocking it entirely.  The shaking worsened, and braced against the protective boulder that was all that stood between her and whatever was going on Outside, she felt the brush of intense heat flow over and past her.

It was as if all of Arda screamed in pain; even behind the protection of rock, she could hear in her mind the death-shrieks of the creatures of Light that had dwelled on the threshold of her lair.  The very fabric of the World twisted and shook, to the extent that she began to fear that she herself would be crushed in the mayhem.  And then, even more quickly than it began, all was silent - almost as silent as it had been in the very Beginning.

Shocked and fearful, she slowly righted herself and tested each leg to make certain they had not been tweaked or bent in the wrong directions.  Several of her longer middle ones ached, but none refused to work.  She could hear the creatures who shared her lair with her, each doing much the same thing.  From the outside, however, not a murmur came.   Carefully she scrabbled at the boulder in an attempt to pull it away from the opening again, but it wouldn't budge.  Pebbles rained down from her efforts to dig around it to dislodge it; to no avail.

She went from hidden opening to hidden opening, finding many which had simply collapsed and others that seemed sealed from without with an incredibly hard and shiny slag that not even hard knocks from several legs at once could mar.  Beginning to get frightened now, she scrambled along every tunnel she could think of until, finally, she found an opening at the very bottom of a deep ravine that was large enough to allow her exit. 

Strange, the Light was gone.  Able to see Arda for the very first time in Ages, she scrambled to the brink of the ravine and gazed around her at a landscape much changed from the one she remembered, a landscape lit only very dimly from the scattered crystals Varda had sprinkled into the depths of Ilmen.

All that she and the Others had worked for - all of it - was gone, with only ashes and a few remaining smoldering piles to mark where it had been most lush.  Mountains were not where they were supposed to be - not where she remembered them from her many journeys under cover in order to clear the way for the New.  Not a breath of air stirred, not the flap of a single insect wing, not a single bird's call. 

Slowly she withdrew into the safety of her lair.  What was she going to do now?

Then, from the Outside came the sound of familiar voices, only now raised in outrage and mourning.

And you say he is retreated into his Fortress?  She grimaced.  That was Manwë, trying to sound so very authoritative in gathering information. 

He must be.  It is the only place that he could have fled that would have survived the fires and upheaval.  Shall we pursue him?  Tulkas sounded angry.  He only barely escaped me; surely he must still be within reach. 

From a distance came the sound of soft weeping.  She sniffed; Nienna was such a tender soul, crying at each and every act of necessary Destruction.  It was Nienna who had had the greater influence on the Others, teaching them to be reviled by the loss of the slightest flame of life in their precious Creation.  Listen to her sniveling, she thought with revulsion of her own.  Such a waste of effort!  Has she nothing better to do, nothing else to offer? 

Yavanna sounded resigned.  Even now, Aulë attempts to stop the World from shaking itself into Oblivion, and the fires did not reach everywhere.  Melkor can wait for another day, when we have salvaged as much of our long labors as possible.   

To dislodge Melkor would take worse than has already befallen Arda, Manwë announced grimly.  Yavanna is right; we should see to saving all of our long work.  And as we do, we must think of a way to defeat Melkor that does not jeopardize everything we hold precious.

We cannot stay here indefinitely.  This land is marred and broken; I suggest we leave the ruin to Melkor and remove ourselves to a safer haven.  The Western Lands suffered far less destruction than Arda.  We should go there; from there we can again reach out and attempt to re-beautify Arda in preparation for the Children without fear of Melkor's interference.

She shifted uneasily in her sheltering Darkness.  Retreating?  Leaving this seared and useless land to Melkor?  How would she eat?  What would she eat?  Too long had it been since she had existed merely on the knowledge of Ilúvatar's Intent; she would starve if she stayed.  As much as she detested the entire idea, she would have to follow the Others somehow to wherever it was that they intended to dwell from now on. 

And so it was that she wove her webs of Darkness to hide herself as she followed the traces of her siblings, as she wove a thick and waterproof pad of silk that would carry her across the Sea to the West, where the Others claimed more sheltered Lands remained.  The trip across the Sea was hard and dangerous; she dared not attempt to try to guide her floating web lest she attract the attention of Ulmo, who detested her.  She clung to her little raft with all eight legs in calm seas as well as the height of the raging storm, and at times almost wished that Ilúvatar still hearkened to the pleas of his Ainur. 

At last, however, she was cast up on the rocks that lay just before the tall cliffs of a foreboding land.  Once more weaving her webs, only this time into a path that floated across the remaining water between her and her salvation, she made her way ashore.  Then, and only then, did she dance and caper at the edge of the water, celebrating her triumph in the face of not only Ulmo and his prejudices, but Melkor and his twisted desire to bring all under his rule.

Inland, in the distance, she could see tall mountains; and she smiled contentedly to herself.  Better than anyone, even the Others, she knew that mountains held openings into the inner Darkness of Arda - into the very heart of the world.  She would seek the highest peak she could find and there make for herself a new home.  And she would keep herself in close proximity to the Others - but remain unseen.  They all had much work to do to restore the World; they would need her acts of Destruction.  But from now on, she was serving herself alone.  They could benefit from her efforts, claim the newly cleared as place to Create anew as much as they desired, but she would care not.  As long as she could feed herself, she would be content.

As a promise to her new land, as well as herself, she fastened an egg sac in the highest branches of tree and left those within to fend for themselves.

The mountains of this new land were of a different sort: the enmity of the Others had not warped and folded the land, but rather these mountains seem to have thrust themselves up from the very heart of the World with clear intent and purpose.  It was as if a wall of mountains had been erected to protect something or someone.  A great deal of time - and several hunting trips back into the lowlands to nourish herself and deposit egg sacs - were required to find an adequate opening. 

She was grateful that those abominable Lamps no longer shone, for the paltry illumination granted by the scattered crystals across Ilmen wasn't enough to hamper her vision at all.  Nor did she need to hide herself quite so carefully, for she could feel that the lowlands bordering the ocean had never known the deliberate touch of Valar Intent.  If they hadn't cared what happened in this place before, she doubted they would care now.  She was still cautious, however; unwilling to reveal her presence too easily or quickly.

The creatures to be found there, such as they were, were stunted and stupid, easily hunted from the limbs of the trees and stabbed with the lethal weapon she had given herself.  But habit was hard to break.  She would wrap her paralyzed prey in a thick coating of silk and then carry it back up the mountainside to a deep ravine just below the tree line, at the bottom of which lay the opening to her new lair.  Only when she was safely back in the bosom of Darkness would she feed.

As time passed, several of her daughters found their way up the mountain, as did many of the smaller creatures of Shadow that had ever found haven within her Darkness.  Their company was not as stimulating as that of her Dark Lover, but it mattered not.  She sang to them a song of Dark purpose, of resentment and anger, of hatred for the Light, of betrayal, of loneliness, of despair; and what contentment she knew came when a cacophony of lesser voices would join her in her Dark song. 

It was only after she had well-established herself in the fractures and empty places of the great mountain, only after she had explored their depths and learned the many twists and turns of her new home, and only after she had taught her daughters to hunt for her and bring the helpless prey back, that she ventured to the other side of the mountain.  And there, as she suspected, she quickly found signs of the Others' Creativity at work.  She had found their haven - their refuge - and rejoiced to find the way unguarded.

The creatures of the plains that stretched at the foot of the mountain on the inland side were larger, juicier, more nourishing; in many ways, the protected plains reminded her of the bounty of the World before the destruction of the Lamps.  She suddenly understood the reason behind the form of the mountains: they were a barrier, meant to protect these abundant inner lands from Melkor's wiles and, perhaps, even her beloved Darkness and the purpose with which Ilúvatar had invested her.  It gave her great delight to think that she had found a way into their protected haven without raising the slightest alarm; but still, as she climbed into the spreading branches of tree only to fall upon a wandering kine, she listened for the sounds of outrage or prohibition. 

Nothing.

It would not do, however, for any of the Others to know that she had followed them.  They had despised her, reviled her; there was no reason to believe that they would welcome her now.  As she felt the need grow to deposit yet another egg sac, she hurried back into her comfortably dark lair and thence into the Shadowed seaward lands.  She would bide her time, and she would not be conveniently present when parts of the Creation sheltered by the mountain needed to be lessened to make room for the New.

But even these plans were foiled when she made yet another silent trek into the abundance of Inland, only to find herself again blinded the further north she went.  She would never completely understand why the Light so delighted the Others, nor why they felt compelled to chase away the necessary Darkness?  Disgusted and disappointed, she restricted her hunting to the plains that remained in no more than a half-light, where the shadows could grow deep and the unsuspecting prey would frequently wander.  She left no silken curtains behind; nor, after an initial taste, did she attempt to draw closer to devour any of this new Light.  As delicious and sweet as it might be, she would leave no indication of herself behind to eyes as sharp as her own.

She could exist on the very edges of the lands now controlled by her siblings, and in a very real way rule the Shadowed lands that they had, in their paranoia to protect themselves, left behind.  Soon, generations of her progeny had made their homes in the darkened, twisted forest, and she knew herself to be Queen of them all.  Her songs began to hold a note of triumph and pride. 

oOoOo

It began as a distant hum, barely discernable.  Agitated, her daughters swarmed to her, seeking her counsel.  But, not able to know for certain what this new sensation was, she could not guide them except to school them to a caution unknown to them before.  Finally, however, she was able to sense and understand what was happening: the Children had Awakened!  A dimly-remembered vision of creatures tall and slender and graceful and full of Ilúvatar's beauty crawled forth from a forgotten corner of her mind, only to be shoved back with disgust.

Had she ever really been as gullible as that?  As besotted by Ilúvatar as that?  Had she truly labored hard and long in order to prepare Arda for them? 

The hum was distant, however; these Children were nowhere nearby. 

Just as well, she thought to herself with a satisfying snap of powerful mandibles.  They looked juicy and flavorful, and it would be difficult to resist the temptation to hunt them.  And if any creature was certain to have the protection of Ilúvatar, it would most certainly be his long-awaited Children!  Hunting them would be hunting her own destruction.

What irked her more was that the joy and curiosity of her siblings at this event had become a palpable creature of its own.  And, unlike her, the Others seemed to have little qualms about approaching these so-called "special" creatures of Ilúvatar's own Intent.   From the shelter of her Shadowed trees, she watched the ship that carried one of her lesser kin to the eastern lands - lands that had been sear and lifeless, she thought - the songs of invitation to the Children clearly heard, both from those who remained behind to wait and from the one sent to lead the Children "home". 

She was still there, in the Shadows, when the very first ships carrying the Children - who sang a Song not so very unlike the first Song of Ilúvatar Himself - to a safe harbor prepared for them by those who had waited.  Worse: an opening suddenly appeared in the impenetrable wall of mountains, an opening that allowed a narrow strip of Light from the protected lands to touch the seaward Darkness, driving it back.  She knew it was an invitation to the Children, but it was an insult to her. 

How she raged at this theft!  Did the Others not have all the lands within their stronghold that they needed, or were they growing greedy now that they had Ilúvatar's Children to care for and guide? 

Did you really expect anything else of them? 

The smooth mental voice from out of the distant past stunned her.  Melkor? 

Long have I searched for you, my Dark Lady, he purred. 

Quickly she shut away most of her thoughts, lest he see that she knew his betrayal of her or know of her anger.  You have searched for me? 

Of course I have.  Did I not topple those hideous Lamps for you?

Liar, she told herself.  You toppled those Lamps to spite Manwë when you could not win Varda to you.  And yet, she schooled her mental voice to a suitable level of surprise and pleasure.  Indeed?  You did that for me?

Do you doubt me? 

Of course I do, she thought inwardly with an equally inward sneer; but to him, she purred, I knew not what to think.  All I knew was that everything was suddenly swept away.  I had to flee here just to survive. 

And where is 'here', my Dark One? 

Oh ho!  Not so fast! she told herself.  The last thing she intended to do was leave herself vulnerable to him again.  It matters not.  I created the shield you suggested long ago, and have locked myself within.   

And I too have taken a form.  It does not mean that we cannot share… as we have done… 

Another lie uncovered!  You mean, we can still touch, even though you told me that it would be impossible… 

I have grown in power, my dear, as I imagine you have as well.  And while we might no longer be able to share in quite the same manner as before, I'm certain that we would be able to find some other, equally pleasing activities to mark our reunion.

While remaining convinced that he continued to be false and treacherous, she felt staggered by the temptation to enjoy even a pretense of communion that washed over her.  Only he had ever bothered to help her set aside her loneliness and sense of abandonment, to genuinely or willingly spend time in her company and commingle their essences.  To know herself loved again… even if she knew it to be an illusion… would be so… 

She shook herself forceably, in order to shed the fantasy that he could be anything but manipulative.  To remember him as the liar he was.  To remember the pain she had felt at his betrayal. But why has it taken you so long to find me? she inquired, filling her mental tone with as much longing and sweetness she could without making herself sick.  I have been alone for a very long time - since long before you destroyed the Lamps. 

It could not be helped, my Dark Lady.  Like you, I needed to craft me a refuge and a stronghold. 

The wind carried stories of your stronghold far in the north long ago, my lord.  It has been finished for a great while.  What draws you from it now to seek me out? 

You assume I have other reasons than merely enjoying your company? His tone gained a note of disquiet, frustration. 

As I have had to learn other reasons to exist than enjoying your companionship, so I imagine you had to do as well, she reasoned carefully.  There would be no profit in stirring his ire too soon.

Melkor's mental chuckle chilled her.  I should know better than to try to hide my deepest thoughts from you.  Yes, I have reason to seek you again; but does that mean that we cannot enjoy a pleasant reunion? 

That depends, she answered, her tone hardening, on the reason.  I have become accustomed to my solitary situation.  You have seen fit to ignore me until it suits your purpose to remember I exist again.  I think I have ample cause for caution. 

Caution?  All trace of humor vanished.  Do you not trust me? 

I have learned that it is best to trust in no one but myself, she replied stonily.  I am safe where I am, and I would not jeopardize my situation for no good reason.   

Even if my reason and your preferences are in perfect accord? 

Tell me the reason, then, if it is in such good accord with my preferences, she insisted.

I would, but I would have us be together when I did. 

But what you would matters little to me.  I am no more the servant of the Others or of Ilúvatar than I am your servant.  Convince me that our meeting is in my best interest, and I shall tell you where I am.  Those are my terms. 

She could hear his burgeoning anger; but for the first time, it affected her not at all.  Then you do not trust me after all. 

Trust is not the issue.  You have pursued your destiny, and I have pursued mine.  I remind you that it is you who has sought me out, and not the other way around.  You have a reason for seeking me out; no doubt you need something that only I can provide, for surely if any of your own could have given it to you, you would not be speaking to me after all this time.  Now she let some of her own ire and frustration show.  But let us speak of trust: when you destroyed the Lamps, did you think to see whether I was harmed in the aftermath?  No.  In all the Ages since then, have you once thought of me?  No.  I am neither blind nor stupid.  You seek me only when it serves your whim. 

His voice bellowed now.  You insult me!  I destroyed those Lamps because we both deserved to enjoy the Darkness - together. 

I am certain you had your reasons for your actions, my lord; but I doubt that they included any consideration for me.  If they had, you would have sought me out when the Lamps were gone.  She allowed her voice to turn cold.  So either you tell me what you wish of me, or this discussion is at an end.

For a long moment, silence reigned supreme; and she began to wonder if, in her anger, she had driven him away - possibly for the last time.  And while the thought that she had at last accomplished what had before taken all of the Ainur together - to frustrated him in his plans - gave her great joy, it also worried her.  Melkor was an opponent of great cunning; to cross him meant putting everything she had created and now enjoyed in peril.

But no.  Very well.  You are aware that the Others have once more crafted an obscenity of Light? 

Well do I know it, she replied, and this time her frustration was at the Others.  With it, they have taken for themselves a part of the Shadowed lands that I had claimed. 

Have you looked upon the source? 

Her laugh was bitter.  You know as well as I that I cannot see when in the Light; it blinds me! 

As you no longer trust me, I am certain you would not believe me if I told you… 

I do trust you, to a degree… 

A degree which seems to quite defy measurement.  Tell me, though: have I ever lied to you? 

She pondered her answer.  Would telling Melkor what she heard while in his stronghold benefit her - or should she follow his example and lie to him to avoid more anger at being overheard?  She shook herself again; lying accomplished nothing - ever.  It took too much effort to keep the lie hidden to make it worthwhile.  And it wasn't as if she needed his company anymore.  She looked at her lesser children about her and smiled to herself.

Yes.  You lied to me long ago, and you are still lying to me today. 

Again the silence stretched long.  She had shocked him - at long last, she had told him something he had not expected.  Indeed.  And what were these lies you would lay at my threshold? 

That you cherish my company, that you care… 

But… 

No!  She had nursed the injury of overhearing his secret thoughts for far too long!  It is not I whom you cherish - but Varda.  You did not destroy the Lamps to ease my way in Arda, but to seek revenge on Manwë for being the chosen one of Varda.  You called me ugly - an abomination! 

This time, she relished the silence that answered her accusations.  Truly, he had no defense!

But did not my destroying the Lamps ease your way in Arda nonetheless? 

NO!  I had to flee, for not only did you destroy the Lamps, but you made my home uninhabitable.  All of the Creation that the Others had made which had sustained me was washed away in the fires.  And now, after doing me and mine great harm… 

You and yours?  Of what do you speak?  To you was given the duty of Destruction, not Creation. 

I have Created too, she stated proudly.  Her rear legs carefully wrapped her latest eggs in their protective sac.  I continue to Create.  As you lied to me even as we were together, I took what had been denied me from you so that I too could Create. 

You would steal?  From ME?  The echo of his fury matched what she had heard in the depths of his fortress.

She simply didn't allow it to touch her.  For once, it was she who held the upper hand.  And so, now that we both are aware of the insults the other has inflicted, are you ready to tell me what you want of me?  Because, in all honesty, unless what you have to say benefits me directly, you and I truly have very little cause for companionship any longer.   

The silence was an uncomfortable one; she could not tell his mood.  Then: Perhaps I need to rethink whether I should trust you or not. 

Perhaps you should, my lord, she laughed outright.  Is it wise for you to trust one who has dealt with you as poorly as you have dealt with her?   

You have changed, my Dark Lady. 

I have learned, my Dark Lord.  And so what say you?  Do you tell me why you are come, so that we can discuss what it is you desire honestly, or shall we bid each other farewell? 

How can I be certain that, once you know my intentions, that you will not take your knowledge to the Others in order to win their approbation? 

Do I seem to be interested in anybody's approbation, Melkor?  Were I so desperate as to curry favor with whomever I could convince, would I have not conceded immediately to your wishes?  Decide now.  Quickly.  I grow tired of your excuses. 

A reflection of heat rolled through her mind, giving her a clear idea of his fury at her refusal to simply agree with him.  Others should have denied you long since, she smirked inwardly.  Ilúvatar Himself should have chastised you for your insolence long before we were given distinct form or names.  The moment you sang your disharmony, you should have been obliged to pay for the offense. 

About her, she felt her lesser daughters huddle close.  Can they sense him as well?  She hummed her song to calm them, and felt their returning confidence in their murmuring responses.

It seems, if I am to succeed in my plans, I have no choice but to trust you.  Oh, but he sounded reluctant!

Then speak.  I am waiting. 

Melkor heaved a reluctant sigh.  Very well.  Yavanna, it seems, is the one responsible for the new abomination of Light that afflicts you.  She has caused two Trees to grow in the very heart of their protected lands.  The Light of these Trees now shines on the Children, and the Valar themselves have taken a hand in teaching the Children themselves to begin Creating.  This cannot be the Intent of Ilúvatar. 

She sniffed.  The actions of the Children are as nothing to me.  I know that, being favored of both Ilúvatar and the Others, if I were to hunt them as I do the rest of Creation, I would myself be hunted and destroyed.  The Light I can avoid by staying away from the protected lands. I do not concern myself with the Intent of Ilúvatar any longer. 

But would you not be free of the Light once more? 

She stopped to consider.  Why?  What would you do? Y

ou have a way to bring your Darkness with you, a way to hide yourself and any other that might travel with you, do you not? 

Yes, she replied cautiously.  What of it?

As much as Yavanna, Varda and the others are determined to bathe this World in Light, I would prevent them.  Therefore, I am considering ways to kill the Trees and sending the World back into the Darkness.  But to accomplish this, as I am probably less welcome in these protected lands than even you, I would need your help. 

Audacious, bold and reckless - all of these described his plan.  But yet she hesitated.  You wish only to kill the Trees? 

Well… 

Tell me all of it. I cannot give you my answer until I know everything you intend. 

I am telling you all of it.  The Children have been Creating of their own accord.  We cannot allow this to continue. 

Why not? 

She could feel his bluster.  Because Creation should belong to the Ainur.  The Children are here to be guided… 

You didn't answer my question. 

Because it is time that the Others - and the Children - discover that they cannot have their way at every turn!  His voice turned to soft velvet.  If you help me do this thing, and if you are not content when all is done, I will give you whatever you still desire with open hands. 

Whatever I want?  She paused and thought.  And will you protect me from the wrath of Ilúvatar Himself for aiding you in destroying the Trees and plunging the Children into Darkness? 

Of course I would!  Do you think I would leave you defenseless? 

Of course you would, she told herself bitterly.  If you thought you could win your freedom by sacrificing me, you would tie me to the altar and light the fires yourself!  Still, she couldn't express that to him - it would invite the very thing she was expecting.  How do you intend to defend me?  Once the Trees are dead, we will have all the Valar at the very least crying for our blood. 

Their anger is of no concern to me. 

But it is to ME. 

When we have finished with our business, we shall head for my fortress in the north.  We can cross the ice easily; and once in Angband, they cannot follow.  My defenses there are very strong. 

So, I do this for you, and I must give up my new home and allow you to protect me within your stronghold?   

He sounded smug.  I am certain you will not need to stay long.  And when it is safe to leave, you need not go back to Shadowed lands.  There is more than adequate hunting in Arda again to the south, places where some pieces of the older Creation has replenished itself. 

I still am not certain this is a wise thing to do, she hedged, not entirely comforted by his bravado. 

Think! he urged with quiet vehemence.  They have spurned you, cast you out, refused your company, reviled your efforts.  This would be your opportunity to get back a little of your own at last - show them that the power of Darkness is a force to be reckoned with. 

That is true, she admitted slowly.  I owe the Others nothing - I owe Ilúvatar even less. 

And through it all, you would not be alone.  You and I, together, are a force to be feared.  Together, if we put our minds and our intents into it, we would be unstoppable! 

The Others need to be shown that even they have to live within limits! she agreed heartily.  The idea of striking a blow for herself for a change was appealing.

Then help me, o Dark Lady!  Bring me to you, and let us wait until the right time to come forth and strike a blow for the Darkness!  And when we are through, you shall have all you desire with open hands, and I shall refuse you nothing.  On this I give you my solemn word as bond.  What say you? 

No, she didn't trust him.  She knew better.  But the prospect of a revenge that promised to taste sweet was all too enticing.

It was too good an offer to refuse.

The form that Melkor had taken for himself - like that of their siblings and Ilúvatar's pampered Children - was not equipped for climbing sheer rock faces.  In the end, it was necessary for her to weave of her Dark silk a ladder that he could climb.  Inwardly she reveled at the weakness in the otherwise powerful Melkor.  Even you are besotted by the Children, my old friend and betrayer, so much so that you are forced to petition the aid of one you abhor.  Outwardly, however, she kept her own council.

But climbing to the opening of her lair was only the beginnings of her labors on Melkor's behalf.  He wished to see into the protected lands - to see with his own eyes the abominations of Light that polluted the land.  So she kept weaving her silk into a ladder until the two of them stood at the very top of the highest peak, surveying all that lay below them.

Yes, from this height, it was a simple matter to make out the Two Cursed Trees that seemed to take turns lighting the inner lands.  From here could also be seen the stone structures that the Children had built to house themselves.  Close to the break in the wall of mountains they remained, where the Light could shine on them.

Let us descend into the protected lands, ourselves protected by your Dark, to observe the comings and goings of our brethren and the Children.  The more we know of their activities, the more effective our attack, when we make it.

She could see nothing wrong with his logic, and so she once more set herself to spinning a ladder upon which he could climb down the mountainside.  And all the while, she brought with her a shroud of the purest Darkness, which she kept carefully wrapped about them both.   

Steathily they crept unseen beneath the limbs of the woods of Oromë, and through the golden, waving heads of grain that filled the fields and pastures that were Yavanna's realm.  She was careful to try to leave not a single sign of their passage, using the beds of rivulets as pathways rather than touch the delicate grain stalks.  Neither did she feed on any of the lesser creatures that populated the lands, desiring not to leave a single discarded bone to draw attention to something amiss in the land.

The closer they came to the Two Abominations, the more grateful she was to the Darkness that she'd brought with her, for the Light was truly blinding to her now.  As much as she distrusted her companion – surely as much as he distrusted her – she had to depend on his ability to see and navigate within the Light. 

Finally they paused to rest beneath the branches of the trees at the edge of an enormous hillock that rose above all that surrounded it.  We have arrived, my Dark Lady, he whispered to her.  We have only to top the hill, and we will have discovered the Abominations themselves.

What shall we do now?  Do we just charge up the hill and smite the trees in front of all to see? Nay.  While you have been busy keeping your warm Darkness about us, I have been listening to the murmurs of trees and the chatter of any Children nearby.  There is going to be a festival very soon, on the occasion of the commingling of the Light from both Trees.  All will be attending on our brethren in their stone city, and none will be here to prevent us.  Now, we wait. 

And wait they did.  She forced herself to complete stillness within her robe of Darkness, secure in its protection.  She could feel Melkor next to her, his tension and eagerness a palpable presence.  There must be more that he intends that he has not shared with me, she worried.  And what do we do once the Trees are dead?  Surely we shall have to flee far and fast across the grinding ice to escape Tulkas and Manwë's fury.

She felt him shift.  There.  See? 

No, I can't see - remember? 

Apologies.  But if you could see, you would see that things are happening just as I foretold you.  The Children are all leaving to gather in the city of our brethren.  Prepare your Darkness for swift movement.  We shall mount the hill, and I shall smite each Tree.  Drink of the Light and take into your Darkness, my Lady, and drink your fill.  When you are finished, and in the chaos that will surely follow, we shall visit the fortress city of the Children and relieve them of their futile attempts at Creation. 

Wait!  I thought we were going to flee across the ice right after… 

Not until we have demonstrated to the Children that they reach too far when they strive to Create!  His voice was rough and angry.

What about Manwë? 

It will take them time to mount a search for us; plenty of time for us to take what was never the Children's right to possess! 

There would be no reasoning with him, she was certain.  And now, at the very moment of their attack, was not the time to dispute the plans.  Whether she wanted or not, she was committed to what was about to happen.  What she needed to do now was focus on the task at hand: make certain that the Two Abominations perished in as fast and as efficient a manner as possible.

Now!

She cast her Darkness even thicker about them and followed the sound of his footsteps up the hill.  She nearly ran into the back of him when he stopped unexpectedly.  Die, you obscene creature of Light! Melkor growled.  She heard him grunt, and the sound of something metal striking wood - and then again.

Drink, my Lady!  Drink your fill! he cried.

He need not have said a word.  The air about her had exploded with an unearthly sweet aroma; and as the Light faltered, she pushed forward and felt around until she had found the wound that Melkor had dealt the Tree.  Unable to help herself, she pressed her lips to the rough bark and drank.

Suddenly her entire perception of the world shrank to the taste of the Light; nothing mattered but that she get more.  More!  She clamped her mandibles into the bark and clung to the thick truck with all eight of her legs, her eyes closed in ecstasy.  Almost without noticing what she was doing, she pressed the weapon at the end of her abdomen into the Tree over and over again, injecting it with her poison; with every thrust, the Tree spurted more of its life-blood into her waiting mouth.

There was an almost inaudible sigh, and then the stream of sweetness slowed to nothing.  But she could still smell it in the air!  Somewhere there was a drop of the nectar for her to consume.  She followed the scent until she had found the second Tree, and latched on once more.  Bliss!  The sweetness filled her, and yet she had to have more; she clung to the second Tree as she had the first, injecting her poison and draining every last drop of life and Light until, at last, she was able to open her eyes and see what she had wrought.

Barely any Light at all remained in either Tree, and what there was of it was failing quickly.  The sweet scent that had so drawn her had now soured, and she loosed her grasp on the dying Tree.  Only then, moving to stand next to Melkor, did she notice that she had grown - the nectar had done more than quench a thirst she'd never known she'd had, but it had increased her.

It had also given her a desire for more - more Light, more Power.  The scent of fresh, clean water drew her now, not as potent a lure as the life-blood of the Trees but enough to catch her attention.  She waddled over to where the water had been gathered in a white stone Well and lowered herself until she could once more drink.  Without hesitation, she drank until even the sheen of dampness on the sides of the Well had been consumed.

And still she thirsted.

Where are these Creations of the Children? she demanded, her desperation driving her to near distraction.  The waters, along with the nectar she had imbibed, mixed and roiled within her, and she belched out noxious vapors even as she increased again.

In what little remained of the Light, she saw the dismay that filled Melkor's face when he looked upon her.  But even her memories of his true thoughts of her were not enough to drive her from his side.  Show me!

And she drew her Darkness about them, and let Melkor once more led the way.  They traveled northward until they were in the very heart of the fortress home of the Children.  In there, my Lady.  The stone building he was pointing to lay just ahead.  Already, in the distance, she could hear the sounds of dismay and anger as their brethren and the Children discovered what had been done.

My shield has grown too large, she growled at him.  Bring out what you feel is ours by rights and let us begone from this place.  Already I hear Manwë's roar.

Melkor hurried into the building, leaving her outside, shuffling back and forth in nervousness and in her new, insatiable thirst.  She carefully cleaned each and every one of the little claw-like appendages at the end of her legs, hoping that a hint of the delicate sweetness might have caught there by chance.  She proceeded to clean the weapon at her backside, grateful for the sweetness that lightened even the taste of her own venom.

What is keeping him?  We must fly!  But…  She couldn't help but wonder what kinds of Creation he was collecting from within. 

The sounds of many voices raised in anger and desperation and grief were growing closer.  Make haste! she called out to him.  Or I shall leave you here to deal with them alone. 

Patience, my beautiful Dark Lady, he called back.  I bring such Creations as those who did not join in the Music have no business possessing.  Just a few moments more… 

We have but a few moments more before we are seen!

Finally he exited the place.  Quickly!  Draw your Darkness about us, my Lady, and let us fly! 

I cannot fly - you know thi… 

Run, my Lady.  Fly, run - we must move quickly, before Manwë and Tulkus find our trail. 

While her size had prevented her from entering constructions sized for the Children and perhaps even her brethren, it made moving much faster easier.  She drew her Darkness about them both, but then found that she had to wait for Melkor, who could not move as fast as she could. 

Her fear was now driving her, as much as her need for more sweetness, more power.  Never before had she been openly, deliberately hunted, sought for a crime against her kin.  What would Manwë and the others do to her, should they catch her?  Why, oh why, had she fallen in with Melkor's plan?  Had she not led a comfortable existence in her lair in the mountain?  Had she not had more than ample nourishment, either from the twisted, shadowed lands that she claimed for herself or from those she trapped and dragged from Oromë's woods? 

She narrowed her many eyes on the lumbering shape next to her.  It was all his fault!  He had tricked her - played on her hatred for the Light and resentment at her treatment to feed his desire for revenge.  She studied him, and then studied the huge bundle he carried over his shoulder.  He promised me everything that I should want; that he would give it to me with open hands.  I intend to hold him to that promise, and what I want is what he carries with him.  I gave him Darkness again, and my price is the Creation of the Children - all of it. 

oOoOo

They ran, as fast and as stealthily as they could.  She spun and spewed Darkness and strong silken curtains to hide them to the best of her abilities.  Through the crack in the protective mountain wall they slipped, as unnoticed as could be with the silly Children still scurrying about in dismay and grief over the return of the Darkness; and then northward again into yet another dark and narrow strip land between the sea and the high peaks.  Grateful to be beyond easy detection, she was able once more to find at least the relief of ridding herself of yet more egg sacs along the way.  She would travel ahead of Melkor, and hide her little gifts of Creation in the time it would take him to catch her up again.

Ever northward they went, until even the shadowed forests gave way to unending cold and ice.  She would have stopped there, certain that their siblings would surely not have either the heart or the stomach to follow them to such unfriendly climes, but Melkor was determined to cross the ice to the shores that she had left behind so long before, swearing that the land had healed itself in the time she had been skulking in the mountains ringing the land of their siblings.  Still lusting for power and determined to oblige him to keep the promises he had made to her, she reluctantly followed.  Neither was graceful on the ice; far too many times one or the other of them would need the assistance of the other to find their feet again in order to continue on.

And now, with all the effort of fleeing, she began to hunger mightily as well.  She had not feasted since before Melkor had called to her, luring her from her plentiful hunting with thoughts of Darkness Reborn and revenge against those who had dealt with her poorly.  A pain such as she had never experienced before now stabbed at her stomach, and together with her thirst, was nearly maddening.  There was nowhere to leave her egg sacs except in cracks in the ice, and even they often would break apart and threaten to drown her as the floating shards would drift apart or crash one into the other. 

But at last they were once more on solid, albeit frozen land.  Melkor's spirits seemed to rise with every step they took now, as if ever pace closer to his old fortress returned strength of will and purpose to him.  Several times, during moments of respite, she caught him trying to slip away.  It was quite apparent that he fully intended to abandon her and his promises to her; that now that she had helped him accomplish his agenda, she no longer served any use. 

After one final chase, she backed him against the very rocks of the mountains with her bulk.  Stay now!  You will not depart from me yet; you have a debt to pay. 

What debt, Dark Lady?  Did you not feast upon the very life of those Two Abominations?  Did you not empty Varda's own Well to slake your thirst?   

You told me that if I were not content when all was done, you would give to me whatever I wished with open hands. And have I not given to you all there is to have? Black heart!  I have done your bidding, drained the life from the Two Trees to return the Land to Darkness as you wished; and now I suffer in ways I had never imagined possible.  I hunger and thirst still - and never before have I felt such yearnings.  The sweetness of the Light from the Trees was such that I should never taste its like again, and yet I desire it still.  No favor have you done me in convincing me to be your assistant, for in lending my aid to you, I have done myself harm unintended and unwelcome.  And so the price of my help has increased accordingly. 

Melkor threw out a hand.  What would you have of me, then?  The whole of the world before you?  I did not promise you so much, for that is mine to hold and keep.  Ask not that. 

This is true - you did not promise me the whole of the world, and I shall not ask it.  However…"  She put out her foreleg and tapped the knot at the very top of the bundle that he had so carefully hauled over ice and snow, from the new Darkness of one land to the refreshing Darkness of the old.  In this do you carry the treasure of the Children's Creativity.  I have done as you asked, and I have decided that this treasure shall be my price.  You will give it to me - even with those open hands, as you promised before. 

Oh, Melkor looked most displeased at the very idea.  This is treasure we should share equally between us as our due. 

All of it shall be mine, she repeated insistently.  It is I who suffer damage from the efforts made; and it is I who should have the greater recompense.  Satisfied you should be that no further abomination of Light diminishes your own Darkness, and that again have you successfully stabbed at the heart of Manwë's presumption and remain free to boast of it. 

But… 

You swore to me that you would give me what I ask with open hands if I lent my skills and assistance to your efforts.  Faithless One, do you hold your own oaths so cheaply that you will swear with one side of your mouth and be foresworn with the other? 

She stepped closer to him, pressed against the chilled rock of the mountainside as he already was, and surrounded his waist with her mandibles.  I hunger.  And as things stand, it would take but a little effort on my part to demolish your Shield and consume the Creativity you have invested in it, leaving you with no reason to want or need the Children's treasure.  I might then even venture within your stronghold and feast upon the lesser creatures of your nature to satisfy my hunger.  She squeezed slightly.  It is your choice.  Keep your promise, or suffer the consequences of being foresworn. 

Very well, he growled, most unhappily.  Let me loose, and you shall have your treasure! 

From the thunderous expression on his face, she wondered if letting him loose was really in her own best interests, but she felt she had as much as obliged him to keep his word.  Her mandibles loosened their hold and she backed away so that he had just enough room to slip from between her and the uncomfortable rock wall.  He dragged out the bundle and worked at the knot at the top.  I would have shared with you, you know. 

And you shall share now.  Be quick about it. 

And such treasures he pulled forth!  Gems of uncommon beauty and obviously unnatural manufacture.  As he uncovered each, she lowered her head so that he could put it into her mouth.

Cracking each gem as if it were a nutshell, she savored the power that had been captured within, and once more felt herself increase with every morsel.  The bundle seemed nearly bottomless, and Melkor fed each one to her and then waited patiently for her to finish crunching and savoring each tidbit.

Finally, however, he shook his head.  That is the treasure, and I have given it to you as promised.  Begone now - seek for juicier fare to the south, where once you did dwell.  I have given you all. 

Say not so, for while with the one hand you have given me tidbits of treasure that were indeed sweet with power and Creativity, yet still do you keep the bundle tight in your right hand.  Open it, that I might see that you have fulfilled your promise. 

No. 

She tipped her head to give six of her eyes the best vantage of him.  What did you say? 

I said no.  I have given you treasure as was your due.  For was it not my plan that gave you to feed on the sweetness of Light Immeasurable?  And was it not with the power of my own Creative energy that you created that Shield that was of such assistance to us both in this endeavor?  Indeed, I have paid a handsome price for your aid already.  It is enough.   

Incredible!  She should have known that he would be ever faithless!  Even now, he was backing away from her, looking about for crannies too small for her to fit into that he could use as refuge - for surely escape without paying the full price was foremost on his mind.  I say it is not enough, Melkor.  I told you the price was all the treasure trove of the Children's Creativity, and you swore that you would give to me all that I asked. 

It is enough because I say it is enough!  I have no further use for you, vile creature with an unceasing appetite.  Begone!  That which remains I name for myself, and I will keep it.  As I did not promise you the whole of the world, neither did I promise you all of the Children's treasure. 

A fury such as she had never before felt in her life filled her.  The trifling insults and rejections of her other siblings, even the rejection she had suffered from him when she'd discovered the true direction of his affections, were as the buzzing of flies in the face of this deep stab of betrayal from one whom she had nevertheless aided, even at the cost of her own welfare.  All of the remnants of love that she had once held for him and had yet hoped against hope would someday be returned, despite all he had done, soured into a deep and abiding hatred that could only be slaked by his complete and utter destruction.

She towered over him, and she could see dismay and fear fill him when he finally realized just how much she had increased with her consumption of the Children's treasures, even as he himself had diminished in the efforts needed to escape Manwë's wrath.  With a casual strike of a foreleg, she brushed his spear - the weapon he had used to inflict the first wounds on the Two Trees - into a nearby ravine.

Then the price of my help shall increase again, Faithless One; and the new debt shall cost you your life! 

And with that, she fell upon him, crushing him with her great weight and beginning to spin her strong silks with which to weave a web capable of holding him captive until she had drained the last dram of all that he was.  As he fell, however, Melkor let loose a cry such as the entire of Arda had never heard before - one that made the mountains tremble and the waters of the rivers to flow far from their banks.  The cry echoed between the peaks and across plains as if several Melkors were in dire straits.

But what she hadn't anticipated - what she honestly hadn't even considered - was that the cry would be answered, and not merely by echoes of itself.  From the south and the east came the sound of a rumbling and a roaring that slowly built until it had her distracted from the struggles of her victim beneath her. 

As if borne on the very flames at the center of Arda itself they came, unholy Creatures wrought with Melkor's twisted Creativity, each bearing a whip of stinging, burning, destructive flame that answered to its bearer's wishes.  She quailed as she saw a virtual army of these beings that were swarming across the countryside, summoned forth by their Master's bellow of fear.  Melkor himself she could handle with no trouble at all; but Melkor and an army of his minions?  None of her greater daughters were at her side to balance the scales even a little bit.

She screamed in rage and disappointment.  Now she knew what Manwë must feel, seeing her nemesis manage to once more slip out of reach and beyond punishment for his crimes.  He promised!  And yet, now she had to once more flee for her life - and from him this time!

Belching Darkness and spinning her strong webs that would catch and confound - at least for a short time - she fled, and kept running until at last she could no longer hear even the faintest echo of those vicious, snapping whips that could cut through her webs as if they were made of her unfulfilled and forever futile dreams.

Chapter 5 - Return

Southward she ran, and eastward, keeping herself well hidden from any unfriendly eyes.  From time to time she would cast her eyes northward, in the direction that she knew his stronghold lay; and memories of the roars of unholy voices and the snaps and crackles of merciless whips of golden-hot flame would give her cause to shudder and wrap her beloved Darkness about herself all the more tightly and speed onwards.  No time did she take to unburden herself of the press of eggs growing within her, for she could not trust that Melkor's army was not moving silently now, following her very faint traces.

As she ran, she berated herself repeatedly for having fooled herself into believing that Melkor would not once more prove himself the Deceiver, the Betrayer.  Ever had he strived against all the others; and she, in her naiveté, had allowed him to turn her mind away from even her own experiences.  She might not have been happy in her lair on the edge of the mountain fence across the Sea and Ice, but she had not been unhappy either.  She had had her daughters, plenty to eat, songs of discontent and revenge; what had she now?  Her legacy now numbered an empty belly, an unquenchable appetite for something that had never been meant to be hers – something that she would never taste the like of again – and the fear of being discovered, either by Melkor and his minions, or by Manwë and the rest of her siblings.

Perhaps her siblings had been right about her all along?  Had she become so enraptured by the Darkness that she had lost all sight of what she was supposed to be about?  Had she begun to take too much pleasure in the task of Destruction, so much so that she had turned away from the process of Balance? 

Regretfully now she remembered the many conversations she had had with Melkor while they had been together, and only now did she finally hear how his words sounded so sweet, but held within them a sourness that clashed with everything else about them.  She had been a fool!  Ilúvatar had trusted her with one of the most difficult tasks that he had set for any of them, and she had allowed her loneliness and resentment to give the Betrayer an easy path into her heart and mind.

She had become as Dark and Evil as the others claimed her to be.  She no longer merely served the Darkness, she had become Darkness Incarnate; and although Melkor had been the instigator, her steps toward that end had still been willing ones.  She could decry Melkor forever, but truly she had only herself to blame.  She could not even blame Ilúvatar for turning his countenance from her, so far had she strayed from her assigned path.

In despair and fear, she crossed mountains and plains, barely paying attention to the landscape or the bounty of Creation around her except to note that in this, at least, Melkor had not lied: the land had healed itself of the catastrophe that followed the breaking of the Lamps.  But nowhere did she see a place where she could hide herself yet, nowhere did she feel safe enough to cease her headlong flight and rest. 

At last, however, she found a stretch of land with tall, nearly impassible stone cliffs to the north, and a wall of decidedly familiar energies – as if from one of her lesser siblings – to the south.  An opening capable of allowing her tremendous bulk to find shelter amid the tumble of boulders presented the barest essential for a kind of lair, and it was here that she finally succumbed to her exhaustion.  As if marking the territory as hers, she gave in and released the eggs that she had had not had time to get rid of during her headlong flight.  Moving beneath her Darkness, she deposited the sacs in hidden places where they could mature with little chance of discovery.

Not long thereafter, however, the world was once more inundated with Light: first by a soft, silver glow that brightened the sky but did not entirely blind her, but soon followed thereafter with a searing golden blaze that drove her as deep into her lair as she could possibly get, turned about so that her face was hidden in the Darkness that remained in the very deepest recesses, guarded by her tremendous body.  When the golden Light had finally gone away, she backed out of her lair and shook her four front legs at the fickle sky.

Her brethren had done it again!  Light was now filling the world, leaving very little of Arda to her.  Then again, did she really expect them to do otherwise?  Twice before had they sought to Light the world, each time with a Creation bound to Arda itself; obviously they had finally learned their lesson.  Melkor would have a very difficult time extinguishing these new Lights!  And for a very short moment, she celebrated even a vicarious victory over the one she hated with every fibre of her being now.

The return of a blinding, burning Light didn't make things very easy for her; so she set about breaking apart the rock at the very back of her lair to enlarge and deepen it.  Disappointed in the scarcity of the prey to be had – not to mention disconcerted to find herself at times vying with her own daughters for the kills – she broke down and began to consume her eggs as she produced them rather than pack them into sacs and leave them to find their own way.  The taste of these tiny bits of Life was sour; she considered it another indication of how far she had fallen from the sweetness that had been the taste of Light. 

In time, she was able to fill her new demesne with fumes and such Darkness as could survive the cruel, golden Light.  The hunting became even scarcer, and the competition between mother and daughters even more fierce and wicked.  She sang no songs to them; they would not have gathered to listen if she had.  She could sense their hatred and fear of her as if an extra scent borne on breezes that carried the scent of Death.   

From time to time again, she began to experience the sharp, painful stabs of emptiness that was simple hunger, which made it difficult to think clearly.  Her daughters, being so much smaller, had so many better places to hide; they could intercept any prey that ventured into her Darkened and poisoned land before she even knew of it – and left her nothing.  If she remained here, she would starve, for while her eggs could keep her alive for a short time, she would not survive long if they were all there was to eat. 

It was time to move on.

But moving on, now, was a more complicated matter.  The golden, burning Light dominated the sky for long periods of time, during which it was impossible for her to see where she was going.  Only when the soft, silver Light outshone Varda's gems was she able to be mobile.  She would spew and spin Darkness and webbing to give herself some cover and run as fast as eight legs could carry her, and again she headed south; as the time neared when the golden Light would return, she would seek out a place to rest – even if it meant that the only part of her sheltered from the hateful glow was her face.

And again she berated herself.  She should have at least given some care to the daughters she had scattered in her last lands; would it have hurt to sing to them once in a while?  But no, now even her kin had turned against her, forcing her to travel in distress and discomfort.  As a result, when she hunted, she was ruthless, often toying with her prey before wrapping it in her strong webbing to suffocate.  Why not?  The entirety of Arda seemed to be against her, why should she not share her misery with whatever had the misfortune of crossing her path?

The further south she went, the more the burning, golden Light seemed to seep into the very fabric of the land.  Trees and overgrowth gave way to wide-open grasslands that offered very little by way of protection.  She soon discovered that the only way she could rest comfortably during the burning time was to weave herself a cocoon of strong webbing that was thick enough to hold in both her and a concentrated spewing of Dark fumes, each of which she would leave behind her the moment the harsh Light vanished.

For a while, the hunting was better; while under the trees, she could go back to spinning webs that would snag a careless leg or neck.  She could then swoop down, stab them with her weapon, wrap them in webbing and carry them along on her back until the time came to rest again.  On the open plains, her speed was her greatest weapon, and again she would poison her prey into submission, wrap it, and carry it with her until she had woven her next temporary shelter.  In the Darkness she would feed, and leave the depleted husk behind with her discarded lair.

The grassy plains soon gave way to an even less hospitable clime.  Vegetation grew scarce, partly because the soil was rocky, but also because the heat from the implacable Light burned even the Creation.  She sought what few mountains might harbor shadows in which to take refuge, but even those shadows were conquered by the mighty and merciless Light.  Far too late it was when she realized that it had been long since she had seen even a hint of water - either foul and fetid or fresh and flowing - and she could feel her body failing her.

It didn't take long, then, before her legs – ever her capable transports and aids – failed her.  Her bulk was too much to lift, and she sank to the burning hot sands. 

She heaved a heavy sigh, suddenly very tired of Arda and Melkor and Manwë and the whole idea of Creation and Destruction.  Such a futile thing, this existence she had been condemned to endure, all to end here, beneath a burning Light that allowed hardly any shadow at all to fall.  What Darkness there was, existed solely within her; she had eaten, drunk, breathed and spun nothing but Darkness for almost as long as she could remember. 

Could the process of Creation continue with her gone from Arda?  She asked herself the question as the burning grew worse, but then sighed and let go of even that thought.  It mattered not; what Melkor and Manwë had not managed to accomplish, her brethren would manage in absentia.  She could feel her hold on Arda beginning to slip.

One last time she raised a single foreleg in a gesture of defiance at the cruel Light, gathering all of her hatred, all of her resentment, all of her regrets and crying out in a voice dulled by unending thirst into a bare whisper of blame at Melkor – and at Ilúvatar Himself for setting her a task that she was, ultimately, incapable of carrying out properly.  All, in the end, had turned their faces from her.  In choosing the Darkness, back in the time when such choices were to be made, she had sealed her own doom.

The burning finally cracked the Shield that had protected her for millennia without count, and her carefully hoarded Darkness spilled out over the sand to evaporate as if nothing but a mote of fog.  She could only hope, as she long had with each and every egg sac she had deposited along the path of her life, that it would find fertile refuge even here, in a land ruled by cruel Light.  She sent it forth with a blessing and a wish that it adapt to this inhospitable realm, and perhaps even discover a new champion eventually. 

With nothing left to hold of herself save the spark that she had been in the very beginning, she let herself spill out onto the sand like her freed Darkness; and like that Darkness, she dissipated in the Light, passing willingly into the greater Darkness beyond.

oOoOo

Was that singing?

Awaken, child of My Intent.  Your long and difficult task is now complete. 

It was a familiar voice that resonated through every part of her, but she quailed at it.  Time without measure had passed since last she had heard it, and times without count had she cursed the owner.  Ilúvatar had turned his face from her, she had always believed, because she had chosen to follow in Melkor's wicked path.  Was she wrong? 

I have failed, she chastised herself, honesty forcing her words.  I have become the Enemy, and abandoned my appointed role in Arda.  I do not deserve… 

You have done as well as I had wished, and in some ways better than I Intended, was the calm and gentle answer. 

But…  I am no longer in Arda.  I no longer Destroy so that the others might have room to continue their Creating.  Only now, her Shield and grotesque bulk gone and her pain and insane appetite utterly vanquished, did she remember fully her charge: that she work in concert with her siblings, not in competition with them. 

As was Intended, my child.  Be at peace.  Your siblings' days of Creation are finished as well. 

But…

A soft chuckle bubbled through her consciousness.  You and your wayward brother have done exactly as expected and Intended.  The harder path I gave to you both, and to a few lesser siblings as well, and long have you trudged that path.  But truly, have you forgotten all you knew before setting out on that path? 

The question stopped her.  Had she forgotten?  What had she forgotten - and how?  I know not what you mean.  I believed…  I thought that I had strayed from the task you set me, and that you had turned away from my waywardness. 

Nay, child.  The voice soothed as if a gentle hand were placed on her head.  I told you, back in the very beginning, that the Darkness you embraced and the processes of Destruction that were your appointed task were to be the crucibles from which even greater powers of Creation would spring, did I not?  How, when you strengthened in that very task, should I turn away from you? 

But I listened to Melkor - who ever stood in challenge to your Will! 

Did he?  Really?  The amusement in the response confused her.

Tired she was, exhausted and beyond hope.  She was in no mood for jest, but knew that Ilúvatar would not use humor as punishment; such was not in His nature.  I do not understand. 

Of course you do not.  None of my Children, Ainur, Eldar or Atani, will ever fully understand.  To each is given a piece of the puzzle, but one piece only.  To understand more of the puzzle, each must listen and learn from the other.  Even Melkor, to whom I gave a larger piece, does not fully understand.  Each understands only that part of the Music he or she is appointed to sing. 

But be at peace; All That Is has come about as I Intended.  There is not a single thought or thing that does not find its foundation in my Intent – no matter how it might be seen by another  – no strain of Music or wayward harmony but that I would have it.  Through your struggles with the Darkness, Melkor and your siblings, you have set in motion examples to others that will stand until the time is come for Arda to end and be reborn again; and in that task, you have done well. 

You mean…  She struggled to wrap her mind around what he was saying.  You mean you Intended for the others to reject me, to despise me?  You Intended for Melkor to betray… 

I told you that yours would be the heavier burden, my child, did I not? 

He had.  She just was having a hard time accepting that it was the treatment of others, as well as her own sense of guilt, that had made her path the more difficult one.  For the first time since she had lost track of time, she felt a glimmer of hope.  Then I am not truly Evil? 

Again she felt as if a gentle hand rested on her head.  Evil is a judgment, my child  – a perception and interpretation of a piece of reality – made by those who cannot conceive of the magnificence of that one piece within the complexity of the whole of reality; nothing more.  As you have experienced, the Darkness and the processes of Destruction seen as Evil by Manwë and the others are seen far differently by you and Melkor and Mairon and those others of your siblings who joined in that refrain of the Music.  And think of it: the Light which was seen as desirable and good by the Valar was seen as Evil and terrible and destructive by you.  Consider, now, that Darkness, Light, Destruction, Creation simply ARE; and what is more, they – as everything else – exist free of any judgment of good or evil save those judgments made by those who do not see the whole of the Music.  That judgment does not touch their essential nature, anymore than Manwë's judgment of you or Melkor touches or defines your essential natures. 

So no, you are not Evil, nor is Melkor; Manwë is not Good, nor is Yavanna.  Creation is not Evil or Good, nor is Destruction; Darkness is neither, nor is Light.  All simply is, as I Intended.  You and Melkor serve the whole by providing excellent examples of one mode of thinking and believing and acting, while Manwë and Yavanna and the others exemplify another way of thinking, believing, acting.  In the Music, Darkness and Destruction have just as important a place as do Light and Creation.  Each balances the other to make for a whole.  Together, there is harmony. 

Besides, I did not sing Arda into existence to merely Be – to exist in a static form for all of Eternity – but to have its own dynamic, its own ebb and flow of energies and possibilities.  Each of the Children, whether Ainur, First-born or Second-born, are created with the potential to do great good or great harm; and each is presented with choices in the course of their lives.  The examples you and Melkor and Manwë and Yavanna have set allow for those who follow you to make informed choices.   

So you see, child, you have served me well, very well indeed. 

She could almost understand what he was saying; but it was the tone, and that final statement, that finally penetrated.  Then I'm forgiven? 

There is nothing to forgive, child.   

Even as the sudden loss of the weight of her former body and the pains of her appetites had been a startling relief, so too the sudden relief of the burden of guilt and remorse was a staggering change that left her almost reeling.  She had carried the load that was the result of all of her poor choices for so long that she couldn't even remember what an uncompounded existence was like.   

Come now.  Sing your part of the Music.  Rejoice – and come home. 

Around her, the Music swelled; and she raised her voice as she once had.  At first she kept her voice soft, timid – as if expecting reproach and derision again – and then stronger as those expected blows never occurred.  How wonderful it was to sing and be a part of something greater again!   

She never even noticed that she had merged with the Music completely, for at the last, notice was no longer necessary.  She was home – and that was all that mattered. 

FIN