Chapter Text
It was not often that Mahal took time from his forges to look after his children. The dwarrows were a strong people, stronger than those prissy elves that Eru had created. Still, the elves had their purposes, and without them, his wife would not have a people, besides the Ents, to look after.
Speaking of his wife, she was not in her gardens tending them or socializing with the Hobbits that called it home. He called to her in their special way and he followed her. Arriving at Erebor was certainly a surprise. He took his time as he walked through the halls to where his wife was. Surprisingly, she was not alone.
“Erebor is inhabited again,” he remarked. She looked up from her place sitting on the edge of the fountain. She watched two dwarrows dig a hole with a smaller male off to the side. It took a moment for him to realize it was a hobbit wearing dwarven braids. “One of yours?”
“Mmh-hmm. Bilbo Baggins, grandson of the Old Took.”
“That old codger? Love visiting with him and that rowdy clan of theirs. They’d fit right in with their dwarven cousins.”
“Suppose that’s why one of them married a dwarf.” He had to scratch his head at that. “Brynye.”
“Ah yes! How could I forget about her?”
“Because you haven’t left your anvil other than to sleep and eat in nearly a century?” Yavanna offered. “Working on new souls may take most of your time but you need to check in on your children more often.”
“Our children.”
“They don’t listen to me.”
“The Durins do.”
“Yes, after I club them over the head with a skillet and have someone talk to them, like Bilbo. He’s courting the Durin King, Thorin Oakenshield.”
“Good for them. It’s about time Thorin settled down. You know his father and grandfather still come to the forge to rant about not matching him with someone to continue the line? Now I can shut them up.” Yavanna shook her head and laughed. She stilled when she caught sight of what the hobbit held. “By my beard, is that what I think it is?”
“The Arkenstone, the last Seed-Stone left to the dwarrows,” Yavanna murmured. “He’s replanting it! He knows! Mahal, he knows!” Mahal looked at the stone before quickly disappearing to see the other places among the mountain. While nothing was alive yet, he felt something was different. Thorin Oakenshield was succumbing to Gold Sickness, but the Seed-Stone would cure that. The other feeling, a mixed one, a child of two races. He appeared in the library eyes zeroing in on the female that stood with one of the line of Durin. Those traits, her face, she was Brynye’s relation, a granddaughter by his figuring. He had missed much in the past century clearly. He reappeared by Yavanna just as Bilbo took out a ring of flowers. “An engagement crown. I watched Thorin make it.”
“Taking interest in them?” Mahal inquired.
“They made for Erebor, began alliances with elves, something was happening. Bilbo carries something dark with him as well, though it is muted by magic.” Mahal went closer, feeling the evil in the lad’s pocket.
“The One Ring.”
“Get Eru,” Yavanna suggested.
He did. The dwarrows and hobbit had left by the time Eru arrived. He surveyed the world around them as he appeared and then looked at the hole.
“You will give this power to cleanse the mountain and the surrounding grounds,” he assumed.
“Yes, but the hobbit has the One Ring. It is muted by spells of hobbits, elves, and dwarrows,” Yavanna spoke. “Though cast in one language, it pulled magic from all three.”
“The only place to destroy it is in the same fires that created it,” Eru stated.
“Not if three of us combined our powers,” Mahal countered. “High Father please. It has done enough damage to this world.” Eru surveyed them both.
“Very well.”
Yavanna grinned, moving forward to touch the ground where the Seed-Stone had been buried. She coaxed it to grow, Mahal coming in behind her and strengthening the crystallized roots and branches that she formed. Eru touched the trunk of the creation as the other pair worked on spreading out the branches and roots, sending them out through the mountain.
A branch fell down from the ceiling cradling a small black stone with an inlay fit for the ring. Eru touched it, giving it power. Mahal came next, doing the same, with Yavanna following him. Once it was set, Eru gave a nod and disappeared.
“They will have stones to bear children,” Yavanna murmured. The branches were coming down, different colors filling them. “Can we bless Thorin and Bilbo, please?”
“What is it you wish to do?” he asked.
“Give them children. Half a dozen seeds?” she suggested. There was a twinkle in her eye.
“What are you planning, dear?”
“Never said they’d be single children. Shock a dwarf with a few twins perhaps.”
“He’s getting up there in years my dear.”
“As if you wouldn’t lengthen his natural life just to celebrate this,” she countered. He conceded the point. Together, they crafted six stones with the energies provided from Bilbo’s wreath. They coaxed the last one to start growing and Mahal traced the leaves into the side of the stone. The children inside glowed warm in their spirit.
“We should keep watch for a few days,” Mahal said. They walked from the room, his hand waving behind him to conceal the chamber from any threatening harm to it.
“Yes, yes we should.”