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"The calm before the storm"…
Thorin pulled her onto his lap and held Hana in a tight embrace, close. She sat across him, her legs stretched out in front of her, towards his right. He rubbed her back gently with both hands as she rested her head against his neck, the left side of her face pressed into it. He could tell she was worn out, from the emotionally draining story she had shared with him, and from her day's work.
"I know you are tired," he said softly. "Perhaps we should retire for the night." He looked down at her trouser clad legs lying on his lap. She did not stir at first, then let out a sleepy sigh and looked down as she prepared to speak.
"Yes, I agree. You are too." She met his eyes wearily. They both stared at each other. Her eyes were lost in the deep blue pools fixated on her, weary but intent.
"I'll be leaving in the morning," Hana said.
Thorin's eyes searched hers for a reason, his brows furrowed slightly. "Why?" he asked perplexedly. There was a trace of sleepy frustration in his tone.
Hana touched a cold hand to his face. "Didn't you see the state of the sky earlier? The snows will be falling soon. I will be surprised if not in the next week or less. I can't be here when that happens."
Thorin's fingers lazily massaged her spine. "Why can't you? You'd be stranded out there in the woods, unless you have enough provisions. How would you get into town?"
Hana watched him, unrattled. "I plan to stock up before the snowfall. Hence the remaining deer. Hopefully I can get the hide tanned in time…"
She shifted off of his lap and they faced each other in front of the fire, he cross-legged and she sat supported on her knees, ankles tucked under the seat of her trousers. They watched each other penetratingly. Hana knew he was not done speaking.
Thorin looked down and at the floor next to them. Then he stood up suddenly and dug his hands into his hair back to the crown. His eyes remained lowered for a moment, then slowly focused back on her. His hands were outstretched as he tried to convince her. "It makes more sense for you to be closer to town, Hana…closer to civilization, supplies….and me."
"I…" she began.
"Don't say you can look after yourself. Don't. I have no doubt of that."
Hana let out an irritated breath and then got up and took her cloak from near the door. Hana began to lay it on the floor.
"Can we talk about this tomorrow, please?" she pleaded, clearly exhausted and beginning to brim over with emotion as she smoothed the fabric out on the floorboards.
Thorin stood as well, nodding. "Yes, we can," he replied, though his tone did not signal he was in agreement with her leaving, or that he wanted to postpone that conversation. "I did not mean to badger you. Forgive me, but what on earth are you doing?"
She shot him a stubborn glance. "Getting ready for bed, of course."
He folded his arms across his broad chest and shook his head, with no hint of compromise. "Not out here. Please, Hana."
She took off her boots and remained firm. "Yes. Here. It's warm here. Do your kin and friends not sleep out here when they are over?"
Thorin unfolded his thick arms and held his open hands up toward her, aggravated. "Yes, but they are not you! I don't want you sleeping on the hard, dirty floor!" His voice got louder as the tension between them exacerbated.
Hana looked delicate and small without her boots on. Thorin observed her small feet again, and regretted his temper outburst. He prepared to answer her but closed his mouth again, and looked down at the floor with obvious disappointment. He was ashamed he had raised his voice at her. He covered his face with both hands and sighed, exasperated.
"Forgive the tone. Please. Is there anything I can say or do to make you sleep in the bed instead?" he pleaded. Thorin took Hana's hands in his as he lost himself in the hazy orange glow cast on her face by the fire. Even her long lashes cast pencil thin shadows over her lids. Her full, slightly open lips drove him mad.
Hana squeezed them. "No….just respect my choice, please." She was not backing down. His eyes traced her hairline and the loose, unruly strands that hung around her face.
"I'd stay out here, you know, so you can have it to yourself. I'm not trying to pressure you to do otherwise. Is that what this is about? I would only share the bed with you…if you asked me to." He kissed her forehead. The coarse hairs touched her just above the brow line.
Hana pierced his eyes with her own. "Will you stay out here with me tonight?" she asked him frankly. Thorin's forehead was pressed against Hana's, his eyes closed. Then he opened them again and looked at her.
"I'm not ready for anything else tonight," she confided. He saw her throat move slightly as she swallowed her nerves.
Thorin looked back at her with wonder, a little surprised, but pleased. He was not expecting her to ask him to sleep with her.
"I just…..I need you close to me," she admitted. "Please."
Thorin nodded. "Let me go change and wash up. I will be right back," he murmured.
Hana's eyes grew heavy as she watched the orange tongues lap upward. She was lying on her side, her right arm bent as her head rested on it. Thorin was right; the floor was hard, but warm. He noiselessly walked back to join her, clad in a long undershirt and different trousers, and brought a large fur with him. It was deep mahogany brown, and the texture and color looked like that of a brown bear. He covered her with it, then crawled in next to her. Thorin pulled the covers over them leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. His hand touched her upper arm gently. "Are you warm enough?" he purred close to her ear. He gently pressed into and rubbed her shoulder.
Hana turned over to face him and kissed him on the mouth without hesitation. "I am," she answered.
Thorin nodded slowly and flipped over on his side, facing away from her. When he moved, his large foot accidentally bumped hers. Her foot felt so different from his, even clad in her stockings. It was small and cold, even through the knit texture. "Sorry," he mumbled through the quiet darkness. He felt her cold feet slide over and press on his. "It's alright," Hana said sleepily. "Yours are warm." He smiled and lay awake a few moments, eyes open as the shock of her cold stockings smothered his feet. He had so very much more to say to her, but the timing was wrong that night. They spent the night asleep in front of the fire, wrapped together in the fur, and the blankets from Thorin's bed.
True to her word, Hana did leave the next morning, early. The sun had not been up long when she got up quietly. The cheerless song of the remaining crows outside rang the early morning in. Thorin had shifted away from her further, on his stomach, breathing loudly with his arms by his sides. She unobtrusively donned her boots and cloak, gathered her belongings, her share of the deer meat and hide, and left him a note on the same table she left one on four months prior, slid under a candle. It read:
I've gone into town to get the deer hide tanned, hope to collect it within a week or two, weather permitting. I will be home otherwise. Please come soon, if you can. If the snows fall and I have not heard from you in a fortnight or by the time I collect the hide, I will come to you. I will be alright. – Hana
She worked the listless flame in the hearth into a healthy crackle before exiting the smithy. Hana felt a bit guilty for sneaking out while he was asleep, but she had her own work to do before inclement weather arrived. She knew she would probably hear about it later, but was prepared to face him. As she strode down the main thoroughfare, she noticed few Eldfell residents about. She passed a couple with a child walking urgently in the direction of the inn, several yards to her right. Their wind burned faces were mostly covered against the biting chill of the beating wind. The woman carried a cloth wrapped bundle, presumably an infant. The man clutched the hand of their older child, a dark haired little girl, her eyes watched bleakly ahead of them. They carried provisions. Hana found the tanner, across the road from the inn, and saw a light coming from the window. When she ventured inside, a woman not much older than Hana leaned her elbow on the counter, pouring over a small book of accounts.
"Boucher…four rabbits," she hollered abrasively to an unseen other person.
A rustling and thump of a hand sounded. "Got them. He should be here to collect them by Monday next," bellowed a male voice. "He'd better be!"
The woman scratched off a name. "Dawkins?" she screeched. Hana's eyes widened at the rather offensively shrill tone. It was hard on her ears.
There was a rustling commotion coming from behind the counter, sounding from what appeared to be a workroom. "'E's got a boar. Head and all. I'm behind on it, so it will be another week at least."
The woman wrote "1 more week" beside the name in her book. She flapped ahead a page, then returned to the one she had been marking. She appeared to be aware there was a customer standing in front of her, but looked up at Hana only when she was finished reading the list of scribbled names.
"Yes, miss?" she asked briskly. The woman was wearing a faded, dirt covered apron over a beige wool dress, her hair pulled back into a tight bun at the middle of the back of her head, wearing a scarf over it. Frizzy blonde hairs escaped from the head wrap, just above her brows. Her sleeves were rolled midway up her arm. Her yellow, crooked teeth were prominent, especially the upper row. Her severe overbite drew attention from her lower row of teeth, which were all there but browned. Her careworn face looked like it was suffering from severe rosacea. She wiped her hands on the sides of her dress.
"Good afternoon, I uh, have a deer hide here I'd like tanned if possible?" Hana ventured politely but firmly. She lugged the hide up onto the counter with labored grunts and the woman inspected it with arched brows and a few nods of consideration.
"You got a good one 'ere, miss," said the woman after a couple of moments of inspection. She ran her fingertips across the surface of the fur. Her husband emerged from the backroom with filthy hands. He was of robust build, had shoulder length dirty brown hair streaked with large strands of gray. His tunic and trousers were coated in thick dirt, he wore a butcher's apron with stains and dried blood all over it. He acknowledged Hana with barely a jerking nod of his head and stood beside his wife, scrutinizing the specimen lying in front of the three of them.
"Miss, I can't get this done for you any sooner than a week," he said, voice breathless and anxious. "Maybe longer. I've got a few orders ahead of you, so my schedule's a bit full at the moment." He looked at Hana apologetically, and his wife turned to her left to look at him. "What about Cillian?" she murmured, voice barely audible. The tanner frowned slightly, considering her question. "I'm not sure he'd work any faster," he answered his wife. "Our son," the wife explained, turning to Hana. "He's his (she nodded to her husband) apprentice."
Hana nodded back in reply. "I can wait a week, that is fine. Can you give me an estimate on the cost? Will you accept trade in lieu of coin?" she inquired. She was not sure how much they would ask for payment.
The tanner and his wife glanced at each other decisively. "Yes, what have you to trade?" they asked.
Hana retrieved some coins from her trouser pocket. They were difficult to pull out at first, since her trousers were taut against her thighs as they were at the bottom of her pocket. She remembered she had picked them up off the ground when the man in Vik was heckling her, they had fallen off his person. There were four of them, hexagonal, weathered. No currency she recognized, but she could make out the faint image of a raven like bird and markings that resembled runes. Hana slid them across the counter to the tanner and his wife, the nicked metal made a loud scraping sound across the surface. She leaned down and carefully plucked from her left boot a tiny glass vial the size of her ring finger. She placed it purposefully next to the coins, hoping the combination would be acceptable. The pair looked at each other questioningly, and the wife held her right pointer finger up indicating they needed a moment. Hana nodded, as they stepped a few yards away from her, further from earshot. After about two minutes, the tanner addressed Hana. "What is that in the tube?" he queried. She folded her arms resolutely across her chest. "Athelas. You may know it as Kingsfoil. Proven effective at treating fevers. I picked, ground, and refined it myself." He glanced at her, absorbing her words. "You can pour a measure into a cup of boiling water for tea." Two more minutes passed and the tanner waved at Hana and retreated to his workroom.
The wife returned to the counter. "This will do, miss. 'E said he'd have it done in ten days for you." She got out the book. "Now there's a prior to work payment policy, miss. Too many times have there been customers who change their minds come collection time. Or they don't show up at all. So I'll have to collect a deposit from you today." Hana shook her head slowly in agreement. "I understand, ma'am," Hana responded. "Name?" the wife asked as she licked her thumb and pointer finger and turned to a fresh page. "It's Hana. H A N A." Hana watched as the wife wrote. "Right, one buckskin to be collected in ten days, for the prior agreed sum of four copperlings and one tube of Kingsfoil." She scratched her withered quill onto the page. Hana handed her two of the coins and the vial. She straightened out her cloak and gave a grateful, brisk bow of her head. "See you in ten days. Thank you." She was about to step out the door when the wife called out, "Miss? I remembered. If the weather turns wintry between now and pickup time, we'll hold it for you." She waved her hand in emphasis skyward. "Especially if it is impassable." Hana nodded quickly. "Many thanks to you both," she replied. She then ventured out into the frigid afternoon as the whipping wind violently blew her hood back.
Hana collected what she could in the way of provisions for the coming winter weather. It threatened from above, every time Hana cast her eyes upward, a milky, thick layer of cloud cover loomed overhead. The sun was not visible underneath. She stopped at the grocer to pick up some rye flour, as heavy a bag as she could carry. Hana also managed to get some dried vegetables and the last of the potatoes from the grocer. The potatoes were small, not to eat; Hana would use them to heat and cover, then slip in her bed at night to warm her feet. She might also carry them in her cloak to warm her. Before she headed back into the woods for home, she stopped in the tavern for a drink of water. Hana was not one to drink much ale, especially not when she had a long walk ahead of her. But she was thirsty, and the biting air dried her throat out. As she wandered in to the fairly crowded tavern, she passed two hooded figures sitting on stools, their faces uncovered by the looks of it. They sat crouched over their drinks, speaking lowly to each other. She did not give them a second glance until she heard one call her name. "Hana! Well met," exclaimed Kili as he and Fili met her with warm smiles. She returned their enthusiasm with her own. "Hello to you both. Are you two returning to town or headed…somewhere else?" she said guessingly. Kili grinned from ear to ear, Fili's grin was more sly and calculated. They were both such a stark contrast from their stern, moody uncle. Fili pulled a serrated dagger from inside his cloak as they stepped aside to converse, beside an unoccupied table near the tavern entrance.
"We are meeting the others later tonight. Just out for an ale. And uncle sent us out on errands. Isn't it lovely?" Fili said proudly as he handed the knife to Hana to inspect, passing it to her lying flat across his gloved palms. She rubbed her thumb against the edge with interest. "This one's a keeper," Hana replied, as she eyed it with keen fascination. "How came you by it?" she asked, quizzically. Kili flattened his lips as he looked prepared to speak, but then broke into another smile. He laughed and Fili slowly mimicked his brother's expression. "Won it, fair and square. Off some Ironfist sod we met last week. We arm wrestled and out drank him for it, the bastard." Fili glanced at Hana coolly as she handed him back the blade and he tucked it back under his cloak.
"Well that was a good day's work," said Hana as they all sat down at the empty table. She looked at them with her lips pursed to one side in emphasis, her brows arched. Hana beckoned to the tavern maid as she whisked past them busily. She stopped and turned to face the trio. "Two more please, miss," said Fili briskly, showing her two fingers. Then he motioned to Hana for her request. "Just water, thanks," Hana added. The maid heeded them with a shake of her head and left them.
"I hear you're headed back to Selfoss soon," Hana stated, as the Dwarf brothers shot each other confident, knowing glimpses.
"Aye, indeed," replied Fili. "To try and reason with the other clans. If they turn us down again, it will be their loss," Kili stated matter of factly as a middle aged, wordless townsman shuffled past them and took a seat with his back to the wall, facing the other patrons, staring ahead catatonically. His eyes were glassed over and his face clearly reddened and raw from the weather. Hana couldn't help but wonder if it was safe for him to be alone.
"They may come to regret it, if they do," Hana said as they leaned in closer to hear each other speak.
"Aye, they will," Fili replied confidently. "They might be stubborn, but so are we. We Durins don't give up easily. They had better not come sniveling by when we retake what is ours."
Hana nodded slowly to herself in agreement with them. "How's Thorin?" Hana asked as she folded her arms, watching two more patrons enter with a gust of wind and light snowflakes dotting their clothes, signaling flurries. Hana did not tell them she had only just been in Thorin's company that morning.
The lone catatonic man near them, still sitting in solitude, had distracted Kili. "He's well," said his nephew, his voice upbeat. "Work has slowed a bit for him because of the approaching storm, but he expected that." The tavern maid returned with their drinks, and they thanked and paid her. The Dwarves reached for theirs, foam sliding down the sides of their cups. Hana quietly took her water. "Have you got a message for him?" Fili asked her as he took a big gulp of his.
She blushed slightly as she looked blankly at the water in her cup. She took a deep breath. "Yes, I do," Hana replied. "Tell him I will come by and see him in about ten days. I've got to stop by the tanner and then I will visit him. If he is not too busy, that is."
Fili smirked and he and Kili eyed each other, as if in on some private joke. "I don't think that will be a problem, Hana," Kili quipped. "He would make time for you." Fili's head tipped to the right in emphasis, as he glanced at Kili, then at Hana with narrowed eyes. Fili's small beard braids shifted with his sly smile at her. "Any time."
She kicked Kili's foot under the table for his cheekiness, smiling. He just laughed back at her. "You live out in the woods, don't you?" Fili queried.
Hana's brows knitted together. "Yes. Why?" Kili's head tipped his cup back slowly.
Fili shrugged. "Just wondering. With the rough weather and all. Are you going back out into the woods in this?" Fili asked, frowning.
Hana shrugged. "I've got to. I'm not sticking around Eldfell for ten days. I can't."
They both watched her with mild scrutiny, and a twinge of doubt. "Are you sure you should? What if you become stranded?" Kili's brown eyes were open exaggeratedly wide, and she tried to suppress a chuckle at his animated expression, of which he was unaware.
"If I suspect that happening, I will head back into town," Hana affirmed. "This is not my first winter. I will be sensible." She set her empty cup down on the table with a light thud of the tin. Hana noticed the low light of afternoon growing dimmer out the narrow tavern windows, facing the Eldfell thoroughfare. "I ought to be going. Must get home before nightfall." She stood up and straightened out her cloak, then picked up her bag.
They both stood up out of respect. "Don't be a stranger, Hana," Kili said with fond smile and a firm handshake. Fili followed suit, with a brisk forward nod of his head. "Aye, as he said. Take care, my lady."
"I will see you both soon. I'll be careful, I promise. You two take care as well. It was lovely seeing you both again. Until next time," she left with a bow of her head and a smile, flashing her teeth at them. They both watched her and continued their conversation as Hana departed into the snow flurries.
The precipitation was not bad on her walk home, but the ceaseless wind was. It was close to three in the afternoon when she left the tavern, and the beating wind and nipping cold made it difficult for her to carry her sack and keep her balance. What little sun shone that day had shrunk back beneath the dense cloud cover. Her journey back felt twice as long. Hana listened for any sounds of potential danger, but all she could hear was the whistle of the wind, whipping her hood back, and the rustling of the bare trees as it strengthened. When she reached her hut, she quickly bolted the door, started her fire and made a simple meal. She retired early that night after a makeshift sponge bath.
Nine more days were to pass before Hana could return to Eldfell with the hopes of collecting the deer hide. Until then, she waited out the days in mostly quiet, frigid solitude, keeping the fire lit only half the day if she could withstand it. She wondered as to where Thorin was, certain he was cross with her for slipping out the morning she left the smithy. Hana remembered his kin and friends had made a return trip to Selfoss not long after the first journey. Perhaps they had returned before the heavy snows and were occupying Thorin's time. She figured that was the reason for his prolonged absence. She knew he could not have missed the note she left on his table that morning. He must be cross with me, she thought. Oh, well. What else was I supposed to do? I had to go to the tanner. And Hana was right.
The third night since her morning departure from the smithy was a fitful one. Hana had a simple meal after spending much of her day feeling unwell. She listened to the sounds of the moaning wind outside; it had strengthened as the day went on. Inside, it was quiet, save for the cracking of the flames in the hearth. Sleep claimed her fairly quickly, but it progressed into an unrestful sleep. Hana felt the cold closing in on her, as she wrapped the covers tightly around her body. She felt exposed, even naked, as she tensed her body up as a defense against the freeze. It began to claim her, starting with her sore fingertips as they became stiff and itchy. There was no respite from the creeping cold; she tensed up defensively. Hana felt it work its way into her arms and legs until a shield of warmth suddenly fought the chill. It spread over her as the summer sun warms rock, bathing her. Every inch of her began to feel warmer, every orifice, every digit. Hana was in a bed that was not hers, and the source of the enveloping warmth was behind her. Thorin's arm held her around the stomach firmly as his hand closed over hers. Hana awoke with a spasmodic jerk and a startled gasp. She swore to herself she had felt him. The fire was still barely burning but the flames that been lapping at the wood when she retired had since diminished. Her bed was icy cold and empty besides for her. Hana got up and put on another pair of stockings and another pair of trousers. She swathed herself in her cloak, mixed her flash flame extender, and made herself a cup of tea. Gradually, the fire strengthened again, and began to warm her. It was nearly four in the morning, and the wind was still howling outside. She warmed her reddened, numb fingertips on the cup, as she tried to thaw them and get a better grip. Hana missed him. She thought about possibly going out to Eldfell to see him before going to the tanner's, if the weather allowed her to.
For the next week, Hana had more sleepless nights than restful ones. In the deep recesses of her mind's eye were dark visions. The dream of her alongside the Elf, taking down the Warg and its rider, replayed on the sixth night since she left Thorin. After she threw her knife into the Warg's face and locked eyes of disbelief with Kili, her fair haired Elf companion stared at her in shock and horror. They both were in cramped quarters in front of the rocky formation, hidden from sight of the other Orcs. She could hear them advancing, and the Warg's howls and barks of impending doom. "Why did you just help them, Hana? What are you doing? They're Dwarves!" He mouth hung open in disgust. He hastily shot an arrow into the neck of another Orc and looked back at Hana. The whites of his eyes were blinding white as he sputtered with outrage.
Hana gave Kili a nod of acknowledgement and goodwill. They said nothing to each other, but their mutual glance spoke volumes and lasted several laden moments.
"I know them," Hana replied, letting out her breath shakily as the rest of the Dwarf company retreated out of sight. "I don't care who they are."
After that night, Hana relied on an herbal sleep aid to help quell some of the disturbing night visions she was having. She tried to vanquish the images of the dream from her mind. She did not want to think about whether or not it was a vision of the future, she just tried not to think of it at all.
On the eleventh day, Hana was brewing her morning tea while she tended to her hair. She quietly brushed the wavy locks, slowly from her scalp to the soft ends. Her hair was a rich dark brown, almost black, the color of ebony. Hana let her mind wander; she mindlessly twisted one section over another as she plaited them. She drank her tea and her most pressing worries, the same that had hindered her fall asleep the prior night, reared their problematic heads again. Hana knew she would have to fetch herself water twice that day, for washing and cooking. She remembered, as pangs of hunger gnawed at her stomach, to allocate some for her bread baking. Hana would bake a round twisted loaf that would usually last about three breakfasts. But before any other chore, she had to go collect the hide while the ground was clear and visibility was good. It was the eleventh day since she left it and paid the tanner's wife her deposit, but she did not think they would be too upset by her waiting another day. They knew she meant to come back for it. Hana finished her breakfast of and was abruptly startled into the present by the sound of heavy, approaching footsteps to her door. It was securely bolted, as it always was when she was alone, and she anxiously scanned the room for her nearest weapon. She reached for her cleanest knife when his voice announced his arrival.
"Hana?" Thorin bellowed through the tranquil, frigid morning, disrupting the lull. He knocked hard, three times, then his voice sounded again. "Are you awake?"
She put the knife down. "Yes, Thorin, I'm coming…(she pulled on her boots over her stockings)…one moment please." She shoved her feet in all the way, which was hard to do since they were so cold. The boots were not easily put on in a hurry. Hana then narrowly missed tripping as she unbolted and answered the door.
She swung it open, and he stood there, hooded and clad in a heavy cloak, carrying his knapsack across his back. He studied her; slowly from the crown of her head to her boot clad feet. "Forgive me, it is very early, I know. I wanted to come before the snow and ice fell…" Thorin could not take his eyes off of her.
"I don't care that it's early. Come in before you catch something," Hana interjected, reaching for him to pull him inside. He let her pull him in the door, as his hefty footsteps trod the cold wood floor. Hana closed the door hastily behind him. Thorin's shock of hair was loose, his locks hung over his face as he shook off his enormous feet by her door and lowered his knapsack to the ground.
Hana did not hesitate to embrace him, wrapping her arms around him tightly as his slowly enveloped her. He was very cold to the touch, which shocked her body a bit as theirs pushed together. He welcomed her warm, gentle touch. "Why did you skulk out that morning?" Thorin asked as he suddenly broke the embrace and held her facing him, his hands just above her elbows. "Not so much as a word. You said the night before we would talk about plans for the bad weather ahead…instead you left. I woke up, and you were gone." He sounded wounded inside, and Hana felt badly. His face wore the stress of the cold, but also clear disappointment. She felt her cheeks burn hot with shame. "I was going to come out to you, after I stopped by the tanner to pick up the finished deer hide," she said solemnly, looking downward. "I thought you would try to stop me. I'm sorry. Truly, Thorin. I am."
He pulled her close to him; his hands flat on her back, for a moment and kissed the top of her head. He rested his right cheek on her crown. "I saved you the trouble," Thorin replied after a few moments, as he let go of her and held her hands. They watched each other without speaking, a combination of timid nerves, gasping breaths of euphoria and relief at being reunited. He turned around and calmly reached into his large, full knapsack and pulled out the buckskin, beautifully treated and tanned, soft as velvet. He placed it in her hands as if it was an offering, and watched her adoringly, as she studied it in awe and disbelief. Thorin stood in front of her, watching as she ran her fingers over the fur, breathing thoughtfully and biting her lower lip. Hana's mind was racing. He had not only gone to the tanner and probably paid the remaining balance, but had also trekked the six mile distance from the smithy in Eldfell to her hut in the bitter winter cold. The wind beat hard against the walls surrounding them as she was reminded of his gesture. She could see his ears, reddened from the exposure, underneath his silver marbled mane.
"The wife of the tanner handles the accounts," he said matter of factly. "She was not too keen on giving it to me at first."
Hana looked at Thorin as she held the buckskin in her hands. 'What made her give it to you?"
Thorin suppressed a cough. "I told her I was collecting it for a friend, she asked me for proof that I knew you. I presented the two notes you l have written me since we met, and she saw the signatures were the same on both. She matched it to your name in her account book. I also showed her the vial of athelas you left at the smithy when…when I was ill. Your writing on it matched the vial you left with the deposit." Thorin let out a long, tired breath as he watched Hana, whose mind was racing like mad. "She told me next time you were in town, she wants you to vouch that I am indeed your friend and authorized on your account." He pursed his lips to the side of his mouth resignedly.
Then Hana hugged him tightly again, as he felt her chest contract with breaths against him. "Thank you, Thorin," she murmured as she tried to control her fervent emotions from getting the best of her. "You did me a great kindness. Forgive my hasty exit that morning." She glanced at him as they held each other; her arms draped round his cold neck as his encircled her waist. He said nothing and kissed her mouth, his beard pricked her chin as their lips kneaded together eagerly. Then he shook his head denyingly as they pressed their foreheads together. "There is no need for that, this is all the thanks I need," he rumbled, as his breath warmed Hana's nose. "Of course I forgive you, Hana. Just don't sneak out like that again. Please."
Hana caressed his cold left ear as he held her. "You shouldn't be out in that," she chided him. Then she rubbed his hands, rough as bark, cold as ice. "Your hands are so cracked." His knuckles, which were always covered in nicks and cuts from his work, were more cracked from the harsh weather. They were especially damaged.
Thorin loosened his right from her grip and lifted her chin to make her look him in the eye. "Neither should you," he replied austerely, his growly voice strained. "That is why I brought you this and came to you out here. I don't want you out in that weather. For any reason. It looks as though the heavy snows will fall in the next day or two."
Hana paused as his words warmed her heart. His concern for her was well meant, even if he was being a bit demanding. "What if it was to see you?" she asked him coyly.
Thorin gently rubbed the end of her plait between his fingertips. "Then I will come to you," he answered plainly.
She said nothing but nodded to him. "Come sit by the fire," she beckoned with a smile, as she led him closer to it. "It will help you warm up."
Thorin shuffled behind her as she laid out a blanket for him to sit on. "You will warm me much faster than any fire," he rasped, staring at Hana, his face deadly serious. She felt goosebumps rise under her sleeves. An anxious chill traveled down her spine at his words and glance. Hana leaned over her small pot over the flames, and plucked out two potatoes with the tongs. She carefully wrapped them up like small parcels in cloth, and stood in front of him. Hana motioned for him to hold his hands out. "What are these?" he asked her puzzled, as he took one in each hand. He unwrapped them, noticing they were potatoes. "Are these to eat?"
Hana chuckled. "No, Thorin, they're to warm your hands. They are wonderful for that, I use them in my bed to warm my feet at night." He flexed his large fists as he held them. They did indeed warm his icy hands, as Hana put on some water for tea. She served him some, piping hot, with her remnant bread and dried meat. "I know it isn't much," she said, as he took it from her gratefully and began to eat. "But I am baking more soon. And there's enough meat for our supper as well, if you care to stay for it. I…" She let out a nervous, loud breath. "I'd rather you not leave me tonight, Thorin. The cold is so harsh; I've not seen you in eleven days. Please."
His concentrated eyes stared at her unwaveringly from over the rim of his nearly empty cup. Thorin said nothing immediately, and nodded at her. He was fixated on the curves of her perfectly symmetrical upper lip, and the sound of her asking him. Her timid "please" echoed in his ears. "I had no such plans to leave tonight," he responded, in his low register.
After Thorin finished eating, Hana looked in her wooden box of extracts for her hand salve. She used it on her own hands when they became badly cracked from the elements of weather. She took out a small jar, the diameter of the shape her fingers made when her thumb and pointer finger were tip to tip. Inside was the salve she had mixed herself. She had scented it with ground peppermint. As Hana brought the jar over to where he sat, Thorin eyed her with mild suspicion. She sat across from him, legs bent as she sat on them, almost in a straddle. Their knees touched.
"What's that?" he asked her, as Hana carefully unscrewed the lid. She rolled her sleeves up. "A hand salve…", Hana said, mildly irritated as he eyed it warily.
He did not protest, just furrowed his brow. Hana removed a glob of it and scooted closer to him. "Alright, this may sting a little. But will help, trust me," she said as she looked him in both eyes persuasively.
He obeyed and turned his hands over, palms to his lap. He watched her as she sat in front of him, his eyes travelled from her plaited hair to her clavicle, to her bodice, and then to her knees. As gently as she could, Hana rubbed the salve tenderly into his scratchy knuckles and digits. Her small fingertips pushed with reserved insistence the minty substance between his thick, calloused fingers, covering every bit of his dried out hands. She moved her delicate fingers in a round formation repeatedly, lovingly coating his skin. His fingers wrapped around hers slightly as she finished. When done, she held them just above the wrist, running her right thumb across his rope like veins and kissed his mouth lightly. Hana was close enough to him he could see the flecks of color in her irises. Then she kissed him right between his thick brows. "Thank you for not protesting and letting me do that," Hana stated quietly. "I just don't like to see your hands so raw." Thorin said nothing to her, just watched her intently, mesmerized.
He could not speak. The ability to form words evaded him for several minutes. Thorin was intent on her, so drunk with her presence in front of him he had to restrain himself by looking at the floor. He let out an audibly drawn out, suppressed sigh. He did not touch her, as his hands were covered in salve. He stood up decisively and stretched. "I am going out there to see what else I can hunt us for supper," he announced.
Hana watched him, mildly confused. "Very well….don't be long," Hana said as he made for the door. "I shan't be," he said, as he pulled on his cloak and gloves and strode out into the winter afternoon. "I may come back with that ornery owl," he joked, looking at her over his shoulder.
"Don't!" Hana said, laughing, as she washed her hands. "He helps me. Really, he does." Thorin closed the door behind him, tittering wearily. The beguiling image of her as she laughed followed him with every step.
