Of Beginnings by Elwin Fortuna

Of Beginnings

From the rock comes earth, from wind and wave and the passage of time. Then from the earth comes life.

Yavanna is a tree, planting herself. She is grass, spreading across the wide valley below the mountains. She is a flower, springing up in a fragrant meadow. She is seed and decay, flower and fruit.

No one marks or measures the passage of Time in these early days of Arda. No one needs to. Aüle works his forges, Manwë soars on the wind, Varda fashions stars and plants them in the heavens, and Yavanna creates life itself, carefully carving it out within the bounds of Iluvatar’s decrees.

She gets creative. Cats, for sharpness and softness. Dogs, for faithfulness and loyalty to the Children. Horses to carry them, cows to feed them. Oliphaunts, because she can. Kangaroos! Alligators! Giraffes! Capybaras! Hey, she’s an artist, leave her alone. She loves each and every one of her creations, and all of them have some purpose, even if pandas seem excessively specialist.