Yavanna wept.
There were tears of joy. The war was over. There was peace on Eywa'eveng.
There were tears of sorrow. Earth lay in ruin, consumed by fire and poison. Billions had perished with no hope of escape, no hope of salvation in this life; the Gift of Man their only comfort.
Ages after his imprisonment, Morgoth had claimed his greatest victory.
Or had he?
Almost a million humans now lived on Pandora.
The poor Earth; once the crown jewel of Arda, the greatest work of the Valar - but suffering so long under the weight of its curse - could finally rest.
What little of Morgoth's corruption humans had brought from Earth to Pandora was like a drop of ink in the ocean.
Yavanna had been horrified at first, as human ships swarmed around her world in unprecedented numbers. But she began to see changes among their passengers. Fewer and fewer had colonial aspirations. There was less and less ambition among them, only a weary, forlorn hope.
Aule told her there had been a revolution on Earth. The people saw the end approaching. Some would never cease clinging to their mortal lives, to their wealth, to their doomed existence. But in the end, many only wanted salvation, whether in this life or the next. At first, only the wealthy and powerful had been offered a place on Pandora, for obscene sums of money. But the rest of the people would not stand for it. The ships were forced to take the common people - what few there were room for. Families and children.
These people had seen enough oppression and suffering. They had no desire to inflict it on others. On Pandora they sought peace with the Na'vi; they demanded an end to the exploitation. Their numbers soon became great enough that their demands could not be ignored. The ruthless vanguard of colonization was silenced.
When news of Earth's final demise arrived ahead of the last ships, all the people of Pandora were stricken.
The Na'vi were shocked that a whole world could die. Those not utterly blinded by hate began to pity the humans.
Among the humans at Bridgehead, there was upheaval. Even hard hearts were softened. Most people who now lived there had nothing to do with the atrocities that had built the place, and resented living on a foundation of death. Some walked away into the forest to an uncertain fate. A few wanted to continue the original plans for colonization, the mining and the building; but there were no longer enough people willing to do the work.
Everyone handled the situation in a different way, but most had one thing in common - an utter disdain for the ways of life that had led humanity's home to ruin. The systems, the hierarchies, the laws, the economics, the governments. The false gods that humanity had worshipped with such zeal, even when claiming devotion to a higher power. Here on a new world, they all seemed so far away, so worthless and vain; relics of a dark time best left in the past.
Uniforms were discarded. Flags were burned. Even the head administrator came to work one day in jeans and a simple shirt of Pandoran fibers, and never wore business attire again.
Being a refugee will change almost anyone. For someone to be a refugee on a world incomprehensibly more pure than the one they left - only the hardest hearts would remain unaffected.
Cut off forever from Earth, from the poisonous influence of Morgoth, humanity began to feel the purifying influence of the Valar's light.
Some hearts never softened. But those people quickly realized they would not have a place in this new world. Most resigned themselves to fade away in silence. The few who still fought did so to no avail.
Many of the humans who walked away into the forest had returned. A few had been treated harshly by the Na'vi. But most had been pitied, given shelter, healing, and comfort; even welcomed. Many more followed their lead after this. Some went on foot, some took Kestrels and Samsons and flew as far away as they could. Several hundred people, mostly families; boarded the last two SeaDragons, stripped them of weapons and whaling equipment, and sailed to distant islands to look for sanctuary.
Some of the first to leave Bridgehead ran out of batteries for their exopacks. They fully expected to die. They removed their masks to feel the sun and the wind on their faces in their last moments. But they did not suffocate. They felt a warmth in their chests, not a terrible burning. The air did not harm them. It felt instead like the oxygen-rich air at sea level, to someone who had lived their whole life in the high mountains. It gave them strength and vitality that Earth's air never had. Not only could they breathe the air, but they found themselves able to eat the foods of Pandora, and eventually, to bond with its creatures. They were reborn to the new world. Though they retained human form, Pandora's blessings were open to them.
Yavanna watched this miracle with astonishment, wonder, and joy. She had always wanted to give such a gift to the humans who came here in peace. But this was not her doing.
As time went on, more humans began to find Earth's air stifling, and realized that Pandora's air gave them new life. At first they praised Eywa, for they thought she had done this. As they connected with her, she spoke to them, welcoming them to her world, but telling them she was not the one to give them breath.
She sought the counsel of Manwe and Mandos.
This, they concluded, was the work of Eru Illuvatar's own hand. A thing unprecedented in the history of Arda.
Was this really an end? Or a beginning?
Five souls watched as a new star appeared in the night sky.
Lo'ak, Kiri, Tsireya, and Spider sat together on Payakan's back, floating in the glassy waters just beyond the reef of Awa'atlu. The night sky was clear, the glittering sea unusually calm, the stars above a wondrous sight.
Born of the land and the sea, of Earth and Pandora, of mortal enemies - but now, these five souls were as one family.
They watched as the tiny speck of light flared into a starburst.
It caused them no fear, for they had expected it. It had become a common sight in the last few years, no longer an omen of death.
Spider gave Kiri's shoulder a squeeze. Lo'ak and Tsireya tightened their arms around each other. Payakan hummed softly. Although they knew this star brought no danger, it still reminded them of that terrible night of fire and death, so many years ago.
All of them felt a need to watch anyway. For closure. This was to be the last. The last ship from Earth.
The night was once again a thing of beauty, unstained by the shadow of evil, by the terror of death. Floating there under the starlight, the five young Pandorans felt as if a great weight had been lifted from the world. Despite the tragedies that had lead up to this moment, they felt only hope as they pondered the future.
Behold, I create new heavens and a new Earth; and the former things will not be remembered or come to mind.
But be glad, and rejoice forever in what I create!
- Book of Isaiah, chapter 65
AN: That is where this story comes to an end. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.
I didn't want to write something that could be contradicted by the later Avatar films, but I strongly felt this story needed an ending. It seemed aimless otherwise. Honestly, I've struggled to imagine how Avatar's story could have a believable happy ending. So this is a bittersweet one. Earth is dead. But remember - death is not the end. The fate of humanity here is not as grim as it might seem. A great many are saved, whether in this life or the next.
In Tolkien canon, the very substance of the Earth is irreversibly corrupted by Morgoth, and will only be restored in the Second Music. I didn't see any way around that. For the Children of Illuvatar to live in peace, the old Earth had to be taken out of the picture. For the Earth to be restored in the future, it first must be destroyed. You can think of what happened as the Dagor Dagorath in a much more abstract form. And of course, many things took place in the course of it, in both the seen and the unseen world, that are not recorded in this brief account.
Every time Morgoth tried to corrupt the Music, Eru incorporated his discordance into a more beautiful theme in the end. This is the culmination of that. In the end, Morgoth's greatest victory - the destruction of Earth - became his greatest defeat. The Children of Illuvatar live on under the light of the Valar, united as never before; and Morgoth's Ring has been cast into the fire. The Second Music will be sung… but that is a tale for another time.