The Book of Lost Tales, Part 1 - J. R. R. Tolkien [110]
But this has ever been and is yet the greatest bitterness to Melko, for in no wise of himself could he now forsake the bosom of the Earth, and belike ye shall yet hear how mightily his envy was increased when the great vessels of radiance set sail; but now is it to tell that so moving were the words and so great their wisdom that11 the most part of the Gods thought his purpose good, and they said: “Let Aulë busy himself then with all his folk in the fashioning of this ship of light”, and few said otherwise, though ’tis told that Lórien was little pleased, fearing lest shadow and quiet and secret places ceased to be, and of a surety Vána might think of little else for the greatness of her vain desire to see the rekindling of the Trees.
Then said Aulë: “The task ye set me is of the utmost difficulty, yet will I do all that I may therein,” and he begged the aid of Varda the starfashioner, and those twain departed and were lost in the gloom a great while.
The narrative continues with an account of the failure of Aulë and Varda to devise any substance that was not ‘too gross to swim the airs or too frail to bear the radiance of Kulullin’ and when this was made known Vána and Lórien asked that, since Manwë’s design had failed, he should command Yavanna to attempt the healing of the Trees.
At length therefore did Manwë bid Yavanna to put forth her power, and she was loath, but the clamour of the folk constrained her, and she begged for some of the radiance of white and gold; but of this would Manwë and Aulë spare only two small phials, saying that if the draught of old had power to heal the Trees already had they been blooming, for Vána and Lórien had poured it unstintingly upon their roots. Then sorrowfully Yavanna stood upon the plain and her form trembled and her face was very pale for the greatness of the effort that her being put forth, striving against fate. The phial of gold she held in her right hand and the silver in her left, and standing between the Trees she lifted them on high, and flames of red and of white arose from each like flowers, and the ground shook, and the earth opened, and a growth of flowers and plants leapt up therefrom about her feet, white and blue about her left side and red and gold about her right, and the Gods sat still and in amaze. Then going she cast each phial upon its proper Tree and sang the songs of unfading growth and a song of resurrection after death and withering; and suddenly she sang no more. Midway she stood between the Trees and utter silence fell, then there was a great noise heard and none knew what passed, but Palúrien lay swooning on the Earth; but many leapt beside her and raised her from the ground, and she trembled and was afraid.
“Vain, O children of the Gods,” she cried, “is all my strength. Lo, at your desire I have poured my power upon the Earth like water, and like water the Earth has sucked it from me—it is gone and I can do no more.” And the Trees stood still gaunt and stark, and all the companies wept beholding her, but Manwë said: “Weep not, O children of the Gods, the irreparable harm, for many fair deeds may be yet to do, and beauty hath not perished on the earth nor all the counsels of the Gods been turned to nought” but nonetheless folk left that place in sorrow, save Vána only, and she clung to the bole of Laurelin and wept.
Now was the time of faintest hope and darkness most profound fallen on Valinor that was ever yet; and still did Vána