[300 powerstones bonus chapter]
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They had restored Erebor, and having welcomed home the dispossessed Dwarves from the Eastern lands, Thorin had re-founded the Kingdom Under the Mountain. In the fever of rebuilding, Thorin and his folk opened many new veins, and one golden seam in particular promised a wealth greater than that wrought by their forebears.
At first the kingdom's fortunes returned with dizzying speed, and all hearts rejoiced, dreaming aloud of matching the glory of old. Yet with each strike of the pick, new troubles followed. The great gold-vein lay braided with seams of clay and loose earth, so that the tunnels carved into it were perilously unstable.
Collapses came again and again, burying many a stout Dwarf beneath fallen stone. Thorin more than once sought to seal off that vein, but the Dwarves clung to the ore within, for it was the seed of their renewed strength. Thus the shafts fell and were rebuilt, they shored and hammered, and then the earth would fail them anew.
"Only a short while ago one of the galleries caved in, and we have barely finished shoring it," Fíli began, then fell silent as all present read the weight of the words in his face.
Kíli sighed, and spoke plainly of other ills, the thing that gnawed at their king's heart: population. "Erebor once counted more than a couple hundred Dwarves, spread across every great vein and spur, but now we number scarcely fifty thousand."
"That lack leaves many halls and forges shorthanded, only the works beneath the main peak, the smithies, and a few pits can be kept running. Other places are half-empty; some hold Goblin-kin and worse. We lack hands to cleanse them, we can but hold the line."
Kaen considered what they had said, then replied, "We shall pause here for tonight. Make ready quarters for us, and when Thorin returns tell him I would speak with him."
When a lodging had been set, Kaen sought out Saruman, and asked, "Curunír, what counsel have you for the Dwarves' plight?"
"Solve it?" Saruman mused, "You mean the unstable mines, or the matter of numbers, or the darkness that hides in their halls?"
"All of it," said Kaen. "Thorin's case is peculiar, he did not begin a kingdom from the ground up, he inherited an empty shell. I can advise on policy and encourage births, that is within men and elves, but the mining is beyond my craft."
"Saruman," Kaen added, "you are of the line apprenticed to the Maker of the Smiths; you understand the shaping of matter and the old making. If one may speak plainly, I thought you the best hope."
Saruman did not puff up at flattery; rather his face clouded with gravity. "It is not that I am unwilling," he said, "but to move thus risks stirring powers that have their own claim. It may draw the wrath of one who holds that authority."
At that Kaen knew Saruman had a way, and he leaned forward. "The affairs of Middle-earth are to be settled by the peoples of Middle-earth, that is the promise of the Valar. Do not fear for consequence."
Saruman's mouth tightened. "Elves and Men are Eldar and Edain, children of Eru; they converse with the Valar in a manner different from the Dwarves' Maker. Do not forget, the Dwarves were wrought by Aulë himself, he is not untouched by the powers. To touch what Aulë set is to touch a maker's jurisdiction."
Kaen nodded, pondering. At that moment the rock at their side sang with a faint, strange power, and both turned to it as if it had spoken. Kaen frowned and stepped forward, then from the stone a grave voice issued: "I, assent."
Saruman bowed at once, astonishment upon his face; he had not expected the will itself to declare. Kaen stood still, then asked the stone aloud, "Have you watched over us?"
"My intent has watched this place always," the voice answered. "The fate of Durin's folk was changed by you, and the Maker would fain know how they fare. This is our realm to tend. As you perceive the spring and feel Ulmo's presence when you touch water, so do we mark the craft of the earth."
Kaen inclined his head at the mentioning of Ulmo; the very naming stayed with him. As the Maker's will faded, Saruman turned to Kaen, and Kaen said with a light in his eyes, "My lord, then the Valar consent; you may proceed."
Compared with those lofty Valar who do not meddle, Kaen honoured the hands that acted and brought answers; he preferred the living work of those who laboured. Saruman henceforth lifted his voice without reserve.
"You know runes," he said to Kaen, "and you know that runes are the shapes Aulë taught, signs that alter substance. Runes may be strengthened by natural elements, this the Dwarves' forebears knew, though they restrained, lest they trespass upon Aulë's authority. My plan is to keep within that line."
He set forth his counsel plainly. "As you fashioned the Star of Eowenríel with the Akenstone to transmute elements and hold your light, so a core may be wrought: a runic heart, bound with precious matter, its sigils given power. Such a heart can magnify rune-work so as to fortify the earth's seams."
Saruman's voice grew hushed, "Give that heart a sanctified charge, and it may also purge darkness. Think of the Star of Winterlight we set upon Dale; a similar device, tempered for the deep, could steady the very veins."
Kaen's eyes brightened at the thought, yet Saruman tempered it with truth. "A Runic Heart requires vast runic potency, and thus the matter must be of rare kind. Mithril, refined gold, blue-gleaming alloys, and gems rivaling the Akenstone in virtue will be needed. Durin's folk alone may not yet possess such stores."
Kaen paced the thought, then spoke, "The Dwarves are not the only Durin's kin; the clans of the East and West hold what is sought. If the price is just, they will lend these things."
Thus a plan was born, though not forced upon the dwarves; whether aid would be taken must be Thorin's choice alone.
Night had fallen before the trumpets sounded. Kaen had not yet been summoned when Thorin's voice reached the hall. "Forgive me, Kaen, I had hoped on your first night to feast you, but business calls that must be met. I hear Fíli and Kíli speak that you wish to see me?"
And so the mountain's fate and the making of a runic heart stood upon the edge of consent, the deep hammering of decision echoing beneath the stone.