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1. Your favorite female Vala
I headcanon that Yavanna has a connection with all her living creations that she can at least vaguely feel their life/death, constantly. After a looong time of this I think she gets used to it, and she can control where and when she casts her thought and can tune in or out whatever she wants to, but at first this might have been overwhelming.
I headcanon that when the Ainur first entered Arda their understanding of pretty much everything was really vague. So Yavanna knew how to think about creating life, bacteria and plants and animals, but she didn’t really know what emotions were- they’re experiencing everything about being an actual part of Arda as they go, even if they are angelic beings that sang it into existence.
So here is a fic about Yavanna discovering some emotions!
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Something had been… off. Yavanna didn’t know what this new feeling was. At first she had just been mentally checking on her patches of life across the land, early bits of her creations. But when had she cast her thought to a particular grove all she felt had been sharp pains to her very core, nothing like the calm peace and fullness checking on life in other places usually gave her.
None of that had prepared her for the sight ahead when she reached that particular grove, though. What had been deeply green and lively was now just… dead. Everything in a mile radius had been burned to a crisp, olvar trampled as if beat down with something impossibly large and heavy.
“No…” Yavanna sank slowly to the ground in the midst of charred, smashed remains of what had been green and full of life just days before. She could feel shaking in the form she’d chosen, like that the Children would have but stronger, and also with elements of her creations, like her limbs made much like green vines.
Tears were slipping down her cheeks and she felt a sob rip from deep inside her. She knew this, crying, was something the Children would do too, Nienna had taught them that, that Arda would contain much pain, much sadness… but she hadn’t expected to feel it here. The life she created was supposed to grow, to fade only on a cycle, or perhaps be harvested to nourish other life. This, this was not supposed to happen, she thought with another sob, and she supposed this must be the feeling of grief Nienna spoke of.
A noise sounded behind her and Yavanna turned, hoping to see something still alive, but instead she found Aulë. He must have come from his mountains; his form, though it too appeared somewhat like that of the Children, was hard as rock and caked with dirt, as she supposed must happen if he worked with materials deep in the earth long enough.
He said nothing at first, taking in the charred scene around them, and Yavanna hurriedly dried her eyes and tried to regain control of her emotions. She hadn’t known what grief was before now, but she didn’t know if she wanted anyone to see her like this.
“Are you all right?” Aulë finally asked simply, coming to stand beside her.
“I… do not know… I made trees here, and they grew and lived, and now they are gone. I don’t understand, they should be here still, they should last. I had plans for kelvar to live here with them! Why would this happen?”
“It was Melkor.” Aulë explained grimly. “He did the same to a mountain range I had up North. I didn’t see him flatten it, but I heard him laughing in the distance when he saw me discover what he’d done.”
“Melkor?” At first Yavanna was confused, they all knew Melkor thought differently from the rest of them, but she hadn’t thought he would want to destroy their works. Her gaze hardened and she repeated his name angrily. “Melkor.”
Her vine-like form stretched and grew taller and thicker, and she could feel it shaking again, but this felt different than before. If that had been grief, she supposed this must be rage.
“Yavanna…” Aulë’s form, still all hard rocks, grew to match hers in size, but he blocked her movement when she tried to leave the grove.
“Get out of the way!” She snarled. “I’ll go burn him, see how he likes it, so he knows how the trees felt!”
“No.” Aulë grabbed her arm, gently but firmly, his eyes holding hers intensely. “We’ll go to Manwë. Fighting Melkor on our own isn’t the answer.”
“I didn’t say you had to come,” she said angrily, pulling her arm away forcefully, but Aulë’s form was strong, too, and he didn’t let go.
“If you go, I-” His intense stare changed to a frown. “I don’t want you to go alone. But I also don’t think we should fight Melkor. We’ll talk to Manwë, and then you can grow new trees here, right?”
Yavanna sighed and nodded, shrinking her form down again after a moment. “Fine, I will go with you to see Manwë first, but no, I can not grow trees again here so soon, the nutrients in the soil look too burned, Melkor’s fire must have been too strong… besides, they are living things. Nothing I create will, or could, ever be the same as the one before it.”
Yavanna knelt down to the ground again, tears welling in her eyes again and dripping down her leafy form like dew drops.
“I understand.” Aulë bent down beside her. “I am sorry about your trees.”
“I am sorry about your mountains.” Yavanna answered after a time.
He shrugged. “I can build mountains again, and I can build them stronger this time. Perhaps this was meant to happen, we must learn how to create our works to endure.”
“I don’t know if I want to believe that, that this had to be meant to be.” Yavanna watched singed blades of grass crumble at the lightest touch of her fingertips, and she sighed.
“I am sorry, again.” Aulë told her.
“Thank you.” Yavanna offered a small smile, and Aulë placed his hand gently on top of hers.
Warmth spread at his touch and she glanced up at him, feeling a new sensation spread through her when her eyes met his. If before had been grief and then rage, she wasn’t sure what this new emotion was, but she liked it far better.