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Mending the Broken Pieces	By : LadyLaran Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Het - Male/Female Views: 13613 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own "the Hobbit" nor do I make money from this story. Tolkien and Jackson are the ones who own the characters and world.

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Author’s Note – I originally had another chapter written for chapter forty-nine, but my dear friend made mention of an idea that was just too good to pass up so I had to include it. I also want to think the wonderful people on the Bagginshield Discord Server! I couldn’t have gotten through this without you guys. For this particular chapter, I found inspiration from kimberly80 on deviant art. I had to pull myself away from her gallery because her works on Tolkien were beyond amazing; if you have time, head there and look her up because you will be just as blown away as I was!

Author’s Note – I do not own “the Hobbit” nor do I make any money from this story.

Chapter Forty-Nine – Divine Intervention

When a familiar figure passed the doors of His forge for the sixtieth time in under an hour, the being working at the anvil realized He needed to intervene before His beloved wore a groove into the stone pathway outside of His workshop. With a soft sigh, Mahal laid His hammer down and exited the forge to find His wife.

“Yavanna, gayadê, what is it that is troubling you?”

The slender figure, clad in a flowing green gown, stopped and turned to face the Smith. Pale green eyes, full of worry and heartbreak, met the steady blue gaze of Mahal.

“I worry, Cariad,” Yavanna said, her soft tones sounding rough under the weight of her concerns. “My merch faces a truly dark path, and I fear that her companions will not be enough to keep the cylch tywyllwch from destroying her.”

Mahal went to His beloved wife, enfolding Her into his arms. He felt Her own circle his waist and drew Her even closer. The Vala hated it when She was troubled like this; He could not blame Her for Her worries because the hobbit lass that held His wife’s attention carried a burden that would crush any mortal.

“The bond she holds with Thorin should keep her safe,” He shared in a quiet voice. “I know my son keeps the bulk of his attention focused so she can draw upon his strength.”

“We both know it may not be enough, gŵr annwyl, since the bond will not be complete until their wedding night. This troubles me deeply. Hawthorn has been through more pain and heartbreak than I want for any of my children, and I know the scars from that will grant the cylch tywyllwch more opportunities to try to destroy her.”

Mahal held Her, sharing His strength in hopes of calming the one who held His heart. He hated seeing Her so distraught, and He knew She had good reason to fear for the child. The burden the young hobbit carried could very easily destroy her without the proper support.

“I think, khajmel, that we should go to Lorien and speak with Irmo,” He suggested, having a twinge of an idea.

She lifted Her face from His shoulder, hope starting to form in Her eyes.

“Do you think He can help?”

“I have an idea, and I believe He can help me refine it,” He told Her, brushing the soft wheat colored hair out of Her face. “If He agrees, we may have what we need to help the child through this quest of hers.”

She nodded, and they left the home they had built together to go to the gardens of Lorien. The journey was not a long one, and they found Irmo talking with Estë under the boughs of a willow tree.

“Yavanna,” the healer called, rising to Her feet to greet Her friend with a gentle embrace. “It is good to see you.”

“As it is to see you, dear friend,” the Lady of Fruits answered with a small smile. “The garden looks very beautiful.”

“My dear Irmo has spent more time on it lately,” Estë told Her. “He has been rather anxious of late and has been spending more time gardening than usual.”

“I probably know why,” Mahal stated, guiding the two Valier to where the other Vala waited for them.

The Smith had to duck to keep from hitting His head on the branches of the willow, but He welcomed the sight of relaxtion the choice of location had brought to the beautiful face of His laslel. He helped both Valier to sit before taking a seat at Yavanna’s side.

“Welcome,” Irmo greeted, voice soft. “I believe I know why you two are here.”

“When did you discover this,” Mahal asked Him, not surprised that the other Vala knew what was going on in Middle Earth.

“Vairë summoned me not too long ago,” the Master of Dreams replied, sounding tired. “She was rather surprised by the decisions made by your children and called for me, Mandos, and Manwë to see the changes made to certain tapestries.”

“What are your thoughts on it,” Yavanna questioned Him.

“Truthfully, the sooner that abomination is destroyed the better it is for all of Arda,” He stated. “There are still certain things that were not repaired by these changes brought about by your children, and I fear things will not go well for your daughter for a time.”

The Queen of Earth nodded, expression showing just how worried She was for Her daughter.

“The burden she carries is one that will continue to grow in weight and will try to destroy her,” She said. “I fear that she will not be able to gain enough strength from her companions to complete the task she has begun.”

“The bond she has with my son is still forming,” the Smith shared. “It will not be fully developed until their wedding night so the ability for Thorin to share his strength with her is limited. It is a worry that he frets over constantly, and my wife is doing the same.”

“Which is why you sought me out,” Irmo asked, giving His friend a small smile.

“Indeed,” Mahal agreed, giving a wide grin in return. “I have an idea that you may be able to help us with; it will give the Ring Bearer strength to finish walking the path she has set herself on as well as comfort my wife and son.”

The group listened as the idea was set in front of them, and the Valier were quick to give their approval to it. Estë looked at Her husband, hopeful He could do it.

“This is something I can certainly do,” Irmo agreed. “Have you both tokens of their souls?”

The Smith reached into a pouch He wore on his belt, fishing out an oval shaped tanzanite gemstone. If one were to look carefully into the facets, the shape of a sprig of hawthorn blossoms was beginning to take shape in the dark azure depths. He passed it to Irmo, who accepted the gorgeous gemstone with care.

Yavanna reached into Her hair, gently removing a sprig of hawthorn blossoms from one of the myriad of tiny braids Mahal wove into Her hair every morning. The blossoms were not all healthy; some of them showed signs of damage that were slowly starting to heal. The small flowers were changing from a light shade of pinkish-white to a pale hue of the blue of the tanzanite.

Estë looked at both tokens, smiling widely at them. They were beautiful, and She could see how the developing bond was starting to cause changes within the two representations of the souls.

“You can see how the family chosen for her is starting to heal her spirit,” She said with a pleased note in her voice. “I don’t believe I have seen such a lovelier representation of a bond in mortals before. These two will be strong together.”

“My umral grew the perfect soul for my son,” Mahal agreed. “The pair will be incredibly good for each other; like you say, the lass’s soul is beginning to heal so I believe they will be happy once the bond is finished and they realize what they mean to each other.”

“Indeed,” She said, giving a decisive nod. “While Irmo works on the idea you presented Him with, I need to speak with you about something. Would you walk with me?”

The Smith rose to His feet, helping the healer to Hers before offering His arm to Her. Once She rested Her hand on His forearm, the pair walked out from under the branches of the willow.

They walked in silence for a while before Estë looked up at Mahal; He could tell She had something on her mind and remained quiet, giving Her the opportunity to speak.

“I had a chance to look at the tapestries when Vairë called for Irmo to see them,” She began, voice soft and full of emotion. “I had not realized just how much pain and suffering both Thorin and Hawthorn have faced over the years.”

“Thorin’s path has not been an easy one since his birth,” Mahal acknowledged. “There was not much I could do to help him until his path crossed with his own khajmel. Her influence has changed things and will continue to do so. In time, the Longbeard clan will no longer have to suffer through the pains they have due to his actions and her guidance.”

Estë nodded, pleased to know that Thorin’s people would have a better time of it now. She had seen what the couple would face in the future and knew they would overcome it.

“Manwë and Mandos discussed a gift to reward them for their suffering once Vairë’s tapestries moved past the final challenge they will face,” She said. “I had thought to do the same, but I cannot give them their hearts’ second greatest desire.”

“Not even you can do such a thing,” Mahal asked, concerned since He knew how gifted the Valie was.

“No, not without bringing her to Lórien and that is impossible for a mortal,” She said with a soft sigh. “I cannot grant them this wish. It does lie within your power to do this in mine and Yavanna’s stead.”

Mahal paused, looking down at Her for a moment as He realized what She was referring to.

“I was told not to grant such wishes anymore,” He reminded Her. “Our Father was rather adamant on that.”

Estë smiled at Him, remembering the conversation Her friend was referring to. It had broken Mahal’s heart, but He had obeyed the Father.

“Speak to Manwë,” She suggested.

“I will,” He agreed, escorting Her back to the willow tree.

“It’s done,” Irmo said, handing the tokens back to the Valar who guarded them normally. “Starting tonight, Thorin will be able to meet his soulmate in his dreams and be able to provide the emotional and spiritual support young Hawthorn needs to finish her quest.”

Yavanna leaned against Mahal, who wrapped His arm around Her. He could feel the relief spreading through Her body and was also relieved to know She would not worry as much as well as Thorin.

“Thank you, Irmo,” She told him.

“You are welcome,” He answered. “I will guard the dreams each night so the ring will not influence them while they are together. You both are correct; the little hobbit needs a chance to be free of it and to gain strength from the one she is created for.”

“This relieves a lot of my worries,” the Queen of Earth admitted. “While she is strong, her spirit has taken a lot of damage over the years due to the injuries that befell her and the attitudes of my children.”

“Will you be doing something regarding those attitudes,” He asked Her, chuckling at the near feral grin She gave him in response.

“I have plans in place already,” Yavanna said. “Infertiliity is not a curse, and my beloved daughter should never have been treated in such a way. She needed her people to support her, not treat her like a pariah. I know Bungo and Belladonna have had words with those who have come into my fields since they had to leave Hawthorn.”

“It’s been amusing to watch,” Mahal commented with a chuckle. “I expected it from Belladonna since the Tooks are spirited like my own children. However, Bungo was a welcome surprise. He dented four of his wife’s skillets while having ‘discussions’ with those they know have harmed their daughter. I wound up making one specifically for those discussions so they wouldn’t keep going through them so quickly.”

That made all four of them laugh, enjoying the lighthearted moment. These moments would be few and far between for the Valar until things were settled, and they knew they would have to cherish each one.

When the Smith and His wife left Lórien, Mahal a great deal on His mind. He knew He would need to deal with some who had broken faith with Him as well as come up with the gift to show Thorin and Hawthorn just how grateful the Valar were to them for their actions and sacrifices. These were thoughts that would linger in His mind for quite some time.

Author’s End Notes – Here are the translations for the words Yavanna used: cariad means love or dear, merch means daughter, cylch tywyllwch means dark circle, gŵr annwyl is beloved husband. For the khuzdul words, here are the translations: gayadê means my joy, khajmel means gift of all gifts, laslel means rose of all roses, umral means lover. Mahal turned out to be just as sappy as Thorin, and I love Him for it! I hope you enjoyed this chapter; please let me know what you thought of it. ~ Laran
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Mending the Broken Pieces