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Perhaps Tolkien has written into LotR, by means of "the long defeat", a deterioration of the Elves (aka Fairies). They descend from the heights of the First Age when their deaths are accompanied by the flame of their hot fëar corruscating from their heads, to, fourth age onward, quaint, earthy beings that have lost all trace of that hot fëa. Thence until now they become ever more reminiscent of woody trees, florid blossoms, and winged butterflies, or the muddy ferment and fluid fecundity of natural processes. Marion Zimmer Bradley's Mists of Avalon comes to mind in terms of the descent to fluid and amoral fecundity.
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