I'm rereading the Silmarillion, and this was just something I woke up with tumbling about in my brain and decided to put down on paper. I welcome any reviews!

Characters, places, names, and plot are all the creation of the brilliant J.R.R. Tolkien and the property of his estate, not mine.

She had never heard anyone laugh as he did. Her brother seemed to think she might be afraid of him—her brother, who was dreadful in anger, unmoving when his righteous wrath was roused, and as quietly intent as any man or Maia could be when he walked among his trees and forests, or when he held Vána's hands and spoke private words into her ears to make her open up and glow like her own flowers, who blossomed wherever she went as if spring itself dwelled in the sound of all her footfalls. Her brother who never laughed with the same raucous joy of everything. Nay, her brother did not understand the heart of her that leapt just as her own feet danced on the grass of Valimar. He thought the newcomer's unending, unbiddable laughter strange and, if not profane, perhaps insensible. He did not understand why she looked on this newcomer, with his trim golden beard and laughing, blushing face, with so much favor.

Unlike their other kin in Valimar, Tulkas carried no weapons; his hands were broad and limber, and his arms rippled with strength when they moved. From the first day that he came to them in Valimar, he was laughing. She recalled it well—the light of the Two Trees was exceptionally bright that day, and seemed to hum with anticipation. Manwë had spoken small words of expectancy, and though she knew not what they meant, all of the Valar knew no spoken thing of Manwë was to be disregarded. Súlimo was the Lord of the Breath of Arda, he who understood most clearly the purposes of Ilúvatar, and sometimes saw the working of Eru's purposes before they had come to pass. All he spoke was truth. So it was that she was dancing on the lawn, glorying in the music that sang from the earth and the sky, and waiting to witness the new coming.

Bounding from the forest he came, lean limbs and swift feet, leaping like one of her beloved deer, a mighty stag with a larynx, and from that human shape he wore came already his laugh. He was strong, and proud and confident of countenance, and as he approached the grass where she made her dance, his golden hair streaming unhelmed behind him, she fell in beside him, and raced to the Ring of Doom where he would have his welcome to Arda.

In battle he was mighty, and always they surnamed him Astaldo, for his valiance. He would wrestle any who would accept his challenge—even her brother's creatures, the bears and the lions that broke from the borders of Oromë's home. Aulë he befriended the most quickly, for he fell in quickly with the master of crafts' work against Melkor the unfaithful, and the two of them ever mixed their strength to thwart and undo the evil wrought by the Betrayer.

All of the Valar saw one another's beauty, such as even the blessed eyes of the Eldar could not behold, and though all of the Ainur unveiled were wondrous and lovely, she could not lift her gaze from Tulkas. Was there a more beautiful creation sung into being by all of the Ainur, or at the word of Ilúvatar? He stole breath from her, when she was in two-legged shape; when he watched her dance, she almost thought her feet would stumble from his intensity, yet his presence seemed also to quell any weariness. As soon as he was established as a Vala, she felt that she could not do without his flaming presence, his laugh that ran like rivers and waterfalls straight through the heart of her being, no matter what shape she took.

Thus when he asked her to espouse him, what answer could she give but yes? She had seen the love that hung between the other Valar: the regal, absolute oneness between Manwë and Varda; the earthy, smiling contentment surrounding Aulë and Yavanna; the perpetual exchange of heart's-water between Irmo and Estë; the silent twining of strength and solace that bound Námo and Vairë; the private playfulness of her brother Oromë and his Vána. So long had she been unmated, as Ulmo and Nienna, who dwelled in solitude and were immersed in their dominion; but at the coming of Tulkas her heart yearned at last for the oneness she had done without. There was no wedding celebration so full of dancing and laughter as theirs; her deer followed her to the supper table and she and Tulkas ran with them as they delighted in the wilds of Valinor, coming together as they alone could do.

Eru had blessed the Ainur with unity, and love was never little amidst the Twelve. But no love story of the Ainur was so wild as that of Nessa and Tulkas, the fleetest of foot and brightest in laughter, the most immersed in every moment. He praised her for her grace, her litheness, and when he laughed she could not help but join him, and when she danced he was breathless still. Of little use was he in counsels, his mind dwelling little on what would or could yet come, and well she accepted this; but his heart, once given in friendship, would not be turned from it except by the most dire betrayal. To her, and to the will of Eru, his heart was fastened irrevocably. Ever they danced on the lawns of Valimar, ever on the greenest of grass they ran, ever against the evil of Melkor they labored as one, and she was ever joyful in her Astaldo.