In deepening vales shrouded dark by mists of desperate malice and hopeless greed Ungoliant, the cursed spider who in an earlier year had broken into Valinor and with the aid of Morgoth slain the Two Trees, fairest of the fair things which Varda had caused to spring up from the earth, drinking their sweet light and pure life to belch forth again vapors of foulest darkness and for a time shroud the Blessed Realm in veil of reeking mist, this Maia, dark and evil in her greed, upon returning to her lair fell deep into a darkness of pain and forgetfulness. For the rays of the sap of Telperion and Laurelin so burned the putrid flesh of the foul creature's insides that, so far as she strove against the pain and flames, she could prevail no longer. Thence did she, in seeking to expel the swirling inferno from within her, gather it together and, with the darkness of her inner-self, force it in upon itself. When she had done this she, with the last of her remaining strength and will, force the pulsing orb out of herself and it fell, shining fierce and bright, upon the miry floor of her bower.

So pure and terrible was the light of it that Ungoliant, even as she was vast in size and great in strength, fled in terror from its piercing rays. Out of the cave of her nest the great spider scrambled and climbing down and across the mountain and canyon beneath hid in the cave of the mount near directly opposite of the one from which she had fled. For although she yet hated, with deep and surging passion, the flames which had burnt and escaped her, still did she long for them, her greed ever piqued to new strengths as she watched, longingly from the cave of her flight. Morning and night she watched, never daring to avert her gaze lest some thing should come and snatch her prize away. Slowly, thus, did Ungoliant's strength wane and she grew increasing weary from her long vigilance. After many days, wherein the light of the orb too waned, though never its beauty, in such small amounts that Ungoliant did not perceive its dimming, she chanced to look upon the Western sky just as the sun was setting over one shoulder of the orb's mountain. Her eyes stung and smarted under the evening light. Averting her gaze Ungoliant once again looked upon the orb. But it was gone.

She started and sprang to her clawed legs, swaying from the fatigue of her long fast. And in that brief moment of disbelief Ungoliant envisioned the orb lying, alone and unprotected in her lair, while into that vision reached a pair of hands. They plucked the shining thing from the mire and veiling its light, sped away on swiftly pounding feet. There and by that thought did Ungoliant's fear swell, her rage returned and with it her strength. In one mighty bound she was out of the cave, in a few more after that she had climbed down the mountain, across the canyon and scaled the other side. Within moments the infuriated spider was once again level with her lair. She crawled in, casting her gaze about in search for the one who had stolen her orb.

Ungoliant had not looked long when her eyes lighted upon the least expected thing. It lay there, just as it had before, the orb, still white, untouched and pulsing. Yet a change had come over the shining thing. For where before it had been a pulsing ball of swirling flame and light it was now still, unmoving save for a thing within which pulsed like a beating heart. Smooth and perfect it lay amidst the foul mire of Ungoliant's refuse in the likeness of a great pearl, silvery white as liquid moonlight, but glowing with a radiant gold.

Then, as Ungoliant stood watching with fascinated and unstraying eyes the perfect shell cracked, splintered and broke asunder. There, lying amongst the orb's no longer living shards a small thing pulsed with the shining thing's stolen glow. It was a tiny spider, no greater than a hand, so small a thing compared to Ungoliant's vast size. The little creature uncurled its spindly legs from around its translucent body and stumbling up upon its eight trembling limbs, crawled forward slowly, towards the first living thing it saw.

With fascination Ungoliant watched as this beautiful little thing, all silvery and streaked with gold, tottered closer, and at last came to rest upon her now acclaimed mother's fore-claw. There sinking down, with a sound like a chittering sigh, it curled up again and fell fast asleep.

[here the manuscript ends]

I apologize for the inaccurate graphic. I couldn't find anything better.