Disclaimer: That would be nice, but no. Also, the art is not mine either.
14. Vána
Vána was walking through her husband's forest, barefoot and covered in flowers, the golden light of Laureling shining on her hair. The birds were singing, harmonic music at the ears of the Valier, and all the flowers sprang open when she glanced at them. Arien was tending the golden flowers of her gardens, watering them with the bright dews from Laurelin, and so Vána had found a chance and slipped away. If the Valier saw Arien smirking knowingly as she left she did not show it, and Arien pretended she had not seen her.
Her bare feet touched the grass, the green strands tickling her; and flowers sprang where she had walked. They were small and timid, but beautiful nonetheless; white like the color of the clouds.
Vána sat down on the lowest branch of an oak tree, seemingly ignorant of the tall shadow behind her. She twirled her golden locks around her fingers, her toes playing with the grass she barely reached. Two strong hands grabbed her suddenly by the waist, and she smiled, turning around to face the Vala behind her.
"How did you know it was me?" Oromë asked, brown hair falling loosely down his shoulders.
"You need to be more stealth, my love." Vána replied, and laughing at Oromë's frowning face.