She stood up the moment the pain faded, registering the dark landscape around her. No clouds covered the sky, but still, not even a new moon was to be seen. The Silmaril in her hand glowed brightly, a beacon of light in the land around her. The green forest was at a state of twilight, the stars shining brighter than ever before. A light came from the forest to her side, a white steed and a golden armoured man galloping past her, coming to a slow stop. But this was no man. It was Oromë, huntsman of the valar.
She walked to the valar, who had three companions with him, one with dark hair, one with gold and one with silver. The three representatives sent to Valinor to report back to cuiviénen.
"I do not know you, female, for you are no Ainur, nor one of the Eldar. Tell me how did you obtain that stone?" Oromë called down to her.
She held it out to him, so he took it, marvelling at the light it gave among the twilight. "It is a Silmaril my Lord Oromë. It holds the light of the two trees combined and would be safer in the west, instead of Middle-earth. Would you take it to Manwë for safekeeping?"
He was clearly surprised at her knowledge of the valar, a mere mortal with that knowledge. "Would you not prefer to give it to him yourself my lady? I am sure that that would be more polite of you to do so." He held out his hand to her, in an offer to ride with him.
"That would be far more polite. It would not hurt to witness the undying lands if only for a brief passage of time, seeing as I am mortal." She took his hand and he helped her on, causing her hair to swing forwards over her shoulder, notifying her of the changes it had undertaken. It was no longer dark as Lúthien's hair was, but a glowing colour that was neither gold nor silver. It seemed to change constantly, edging more towards silver the more she stared at it. Oromë rode on, his three companions following him.
As they rode, Aphrodite fell asleep, the soothing presence of the vala in front of her calming her racing mind. She dreamed of the lord Caranthir, how he had looked at her with the same adoration that she had seen her parents look at each other with. Maybe he had fallen in love with an elleth that she looked like? Or maybe there was more to his actions towards her than that? Whatever the cause was, she found herself dreaming of him singing the song he sang to her, an unconscious smile coming to her face as she hummed the sweet tune in her sleep.
When she woke, she found herself on the ground, on top of a cloak while her weapons lay beside her, Narsil and a bow of the Galadhrim, passed down to her through her ancestors. Sitting up, she saw that Oromë kept watch while the three kings slept.
"How long have I been asleep?" She stretched.
"Well, judging by the way your hair matches the waxing and waning of the two trees, I'd say about four days, according to Laurelin. Five if you count Telperion." He smirked a little as Aphrodite's eyes widened.
"I'm honestly not that surprised, and as a Valar, you should know why." She rolled onto her side, listening to the nearby waves from the sea. "I am surrounded by my ancestors, yet I am almost completely a different race to them. Ingwë isn't a direct ancestor, but his sister Indis is one of them. I am related to all three races of the elves and I am one tiny bit maiar, but in actual fact, I am mortal. And I will die, no matter what you will to happen, for I am of the race of men, those who walked under the sun alone, never meant for the twilight like this."
She felt Oromë come to her side, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I have seen your memories and know what is to come, but I shall not act upon them, for then you shall not exist to tell us of those memories. But I do see a bright future for you, full of both life and sadly death, but you will prevail, no matter what the Lord Caranthir told you when you saw him."
That was enough for Aphrodite to break. She sobbed into Oromë, all the held back grief of the last year pouring out at that moment. When her tears finally slowed, she looked up to the vala, before simply holding onto him tightly. "Thank you for letting me cry on you. It feels better now, even if the hurt is still there. The grief was getting too much and I couldn't hold onto it any more."
Oromë simply held her tightly, just as her father used to, whispering comforting words to her and calming her back to sleep.