Hana woke up with a severe headache. She could not move without feeling waves of pain reverberate through her body. She vaguely remembered flashes of what happened after the skirmish with the vagrant ended. Thorin had helped her up and she attempted to walk. She flexed her toes, which were bare, and the soles of her feet throbbed. She screwed up her face as she touched her wounds, particularly her head, which felt as if someone with a small hammer was banging on her skull from the inside. She had suffered a concussion, but was not sure as to the degree. It was her right leg that felt the worst, a slow torture that unfortunately affected the stronger side of her body. She tried to sit up, taking the movement very slow. Sitting upright, trying to move her torso was excruciating. Then she remembered how physical and violent the fight for her life was, and it made sense. When Hana opened her eyes fully, she noticed she was not on the old wooden bench underneath the window. She was in Thorin's tiny room, in his bed. She was lying on some sort of fur, presumably a bear's, and the only thing that had been removed from her body were her boots and cloak. The smithy was silent, and all that Hana could hear was the constant sound of the crows squawking outside, mingled with her own breath. Thorin was nowhere to be seen. Once she sat fully upright, she looked at the deep gashes on her hands and the leg wound. She picked up small copper basin beside the bed and her distorted reflection revealed her face had been carefully cleaned off. Her puffy, swollen upper lip, though discolored and bruised, was free of blood and dirt. Hana put the basin down, and reclined onto her back again, cursing aloud. She had moved too abruptly and the pulsing bruises on her back did not thank her for it. She did not remember much from whatever conversation they shared before she lost consciousness, but Hana did recall him saying "you're alone" to her. She felt indignant and then still inside. It was impertinent and presumptuous for him to say it, but she would not deny it. Hana was completely alone. The only place she had ever dwelled in that resembled home was far behind her and she was not sure she would return. She sat up again this time, slower, and was determined to make herself move. Hana would no longer be indebted to this stranger. She needed to move on. No matter how much she tried to distract herself as she attempted to tidy up the smithy, she could not vaporize him from her thoughts. His words, voice, and touch lingered.

Hana willed herself to get up and get moving. She collected what she had of her scant belongings and looked for something to write a note on. She noticed the last note she left Thorin was still on the table, barely moved. So she wrote below it, hastily: "I haven't forgotten the debts I owe you, or my blades. I need to find some sort of lodging, any sort. Might look for a local apothecary. My humble thanks for your help." – Hana. She took a look around at the lowly smithy, and felt odd. It was not a feeling of attachment, necessarily, but there was a sentiment brewing in her, something resembling nostalgia. She turned around, facing the door, and paused. She heard his voice echoing in her head, then walked out the door, locking it from the inside. Move on, she thought.

She spent the whole day, wandering, sometimes with a near limp. Hana tried to walk slower as to disguise her pained steps. She did not need anyone singling her out as a weakling. Hana was subject to the sounds and smells of the village again, listening carefully, observing. The villagers were not particularly speedy about their business, or overly friendly. As she meandered, Hana saw little diversity in the residents. Most were of the race of men, probably having spent most of their lives in this mountainous region, probably having never ventured any further than the village borders. There were no elves. Hana had not laid eyes on an elf since leaving her childhood home, Imladris. No elves would have ever have any business here. They did not meddle in the affairs of men nor did they usually venture too far from their lands. This was a place where rough hewn, survivalist types trod. Hana passed the inn along the main road again, and stopped. It was not her first choice of lodging, but much alternative. She looked both ways across the road, and paused. I could travel westward a few days; see what lies in the towns there. Perhaps she would, before the long winter months arrived, but not right away. Her main concern now was finding shelter. She approached the inn, her hood on, senses heightened.

The wafting smells of burning wood and smoke greeted her. The patrons, mostly men, were drinking sloppily from large tin pints, laughing ostentatiously. At one table, to her right, Hana spotted what she was certain were Dwarves. She knew enough about Dwarves to recognize them, and had seen, beneath Thorin's long hair, his slightly pointed ears. This group of Dwarves was incognizant of anyone around them, a few younger ones surrounded the two seated and engaged in an intense arm wrestle. To the left was an elderly woman, standing in the corner by a window, mumbling to herself under her breath and staring blankly ahead of her. Hana pushed past a pair of men bellowing at each other, reeking of ale and sweat, and walked up to the counter. A gaunt old man, with a receded hairline, stringy gray hair and missing a few teeth was leaning against the counter, surveying the patrons. She assumed he was the proprietor. He pretended not to noticed the woman in front of him at first. "Can I help you, miss?" he croaked, giving her a once over look that made Hana's stomach churn. After a few seconds, she leaned her forearm on the counter and he backed off. "If you are the proprietor here, yes, you can. I seek accommodation, please. No questions asked, I'm not here to start trouble. " He said nothing at first, just raising his eyebrows incredulously at her. Then the narrowed his beady eyes at her.

"You here alone, girl?"

Girl? She thought. Did she really look like a child?

Hana stared right back, eyes immovable. "My business… is my own."

The innkeeper retreated backwards a bit further, absentmindedly wiping his hands on his sides. He sized her up, not speaking at all, and then the corner of his mouth played into a rather demeaning smirk. He pulled a ring of keys out of his apron pocket and then sauntered over to the base of the stairs. Then he stood at the base and looked blankly at her. Hana coolly followed him. He stomped up the narrow, sharply winding staircase as she heard him mutter under his breath. They navigated the narrow hallway, and he stopped at the last door. Before he opened it, he turned around to face her.

"This here's the smallest room I've got, but it should suit someone like you just fine. Don't burn through more than two logs of wood a night, unless you provide your own. How long do you, er, plan to stay?"

Hana gave her a head a slight shake and shrugged. "Not more than a few days. What is the rate per night?"

The innkeeper listened to her, taking her words in, then said, "What have you got?"

Hana didn't have money, she rarely used currency of any kind. As her other valuable possessions were somewhere in Thorin's custody, she had another, but last resort option. As loathe as she was to part with it, she reached down her sleeve and pulled out a vial, tucked in her elbow, the size of her middle finger. Inside was a butter yellow powdery substance. She held it up for him to see.

"What's that you've got there?" He grumbled.

"It's called celandine. It's a medicine. It can be used to treat warts and other….skin maladies. Hana gave a him a knowing look as she studied his mottled face glowering back at her. He sighed, then gave a quick jerk of his head in a nod. She pressed the vial into his filthy hand and he held it between his thumb and forefinger, studying it.

"Right, girl. I'll try it, but if this is some sort of witchcraft fiddle of yours, you'll be owing me. And I shan't forget." He unlocked her door and pushed it open, not taking his eyes off of Hana for a moment, as if to intimidate her. Then he handed her the key. "Take this one, but don't lose it. I've only one other spare." Hana nodded at him and took it. Just as she was about to close the door behind her, he held it open long enough for her to see his left eye glaring at her and his nose in the crack. "Don't cause no trouble here, girl. No…no er, odd visitors." He turned and left down the stairs. She opened the door all the way to watch him leave, quizzically peering in the direction of the stairs. No odd visitors? What did he think she was, a whore? He already thought she was a witch. Hana closed the door and locked it, sighing exasperatedly. She removed her cloak and sat down in the small wooden chair beside a rather paltry looking fire. She surveyed the room. There was the chair she was sitting in, one other tiny stool, and the bed, which did not look like it could accommodate anyone much taller than her. She kicked off her boots and laid down on it, trying to get comfortable. Her body was still sore, but she did not feel as dizzy as she had early that morning. Drowsiness quickly set in, and as she was falling asleep, Hana thought about the next day. She watched a few scurrying embers dart around the base of the waning fire as she thought. Find an apothecary. Find an apothecary, try to trade, and go back and reclaim your blades. Thorin is probably thinking you swindled him. Thorin….Hana kept hearing his name in her head. Well, even if he did think that of her, he would not have been the first. Why did he help me in the woods? I will collect my blades, pay him and be done with this, she thought. She did not need his pity. She also wanted to believe he did not think ill of her.

Hana was awake, dressed, and out the door of the inn shortly after the sun showed itself. She took with her a small satchel and a handful of empty vials, along with the few full vials she still had. Hana walked to the edge of the forest, not far from where she had been attacked a few days earlier. She did not venture in as far, but walked, slowly, picking up scents and carefully inspecting the vegetation. She gathered handfuls of the more common plants like wild peppermint, valerian and rue. She scoped out the best patches of the plants, gathered what she needed, and went back into the village, first to store her specimens, then to grind them carefully into fine powders. It took her most of the day, and the sun was much higher in the sky when she returned. Hana asked a woman she had spotted hanging around the inn entrance all day where the local apothecary could be located. The woman was a bit brass, and her careworn face frowned at Hana's approach.

"A what? You dabble in black magic or sommat?

Hana shook her head. "No, nothing like that, somewhere where you can get medicines? Cures for sickness? For (she whispered and leaned in closer, looking upwards as she spoke close to the woman's ear) female matters?"

The woman looked at Hana, perplexed. "Don't look like there's nuffin' wrong with you. Nuffin' at all. You from 'round here?"

Hana rolled her eyes impatiently. "No. I'm not. But I need to find an apothecary. Is there one here or not? Next town, perhaps?"

The woman raised her eyebrows jauntily. "Next village over. You can't walk there, it'll take you nearly the 'ole day. 'Bout ten miles."

Hana sighed. That was further than she wanted to go, but she was not unaccustomed to far walks. She thanked the woman, and went inside. It was crowded, for early evening. Her hood was up, but she did not slip past all the patrons unnoticed. She was the only younger woman in the place by herself, and stood out. Even with the healing marks on her face from the forest attack, she was still very beautiful. The cacophony of bellowing voices, raucous laughter, and the scrape of chairs being pushed in and pulled out from tables rang in her ears. As she started up the stairs, she almost walked right into a rather formidable looking Dwarf; his shoulders alone looked four feet wide. His head was covered with cryptic tattoos and he was blocking the stairs completely. He was staring off into the crowd, at the same group of Dwarves arm wrestling from the previous night. They were sitting at the table talking intently among themselves. His stern expression gave Hana slight pause. He pretended not to notice the woman standing right in front of him as he tipped up his huge pint of ale.

"Excuse me, sir." Hana reproached herself for a second for not saying please, but why should she? He was in her way.

He looked down on her, genuinely shocked at first. He said nothing at all for solid minute.

"Can I help you?"

"You're in the way, sir. Will you please move?" She stood her ground. The dwarf felt like being difficult.

"Maybe I can….(he raised up the pint, waving it a bit) and maybe I...can't." He smirked at her and gulped more ale down, dribbling it down his beard and front. Hana felt the fury rising in her like wild animal. If she had a blade in her hand right now the dwarf would be wounded, or worse.

"Look, I asked you to move, and I will be damned if I…" the volume in her voice escalated into a yell and then she was cut off. The insolent dwarf's sneer at her was erased when she raised her voice at him. He was not expecting it. Another dwarf moved in, waving the insolent one away from the stairs. He was shorter, older, with a long white beard and a white tuft of hair. He had a much kinder way about him. 'Good heavens, brother, are you deaf? She needs to get up the stairs. Move out of her way. " Hana turned and looked at him, as he beckoned the larger dwarf further away from the stairs. As she started walking, she saw them whisper to each other, and look in her direction. She felt their eyes on her as she ascended, and saw them still on her right before disappearing from their view.

The next day, the third since the forest attack, Hana rose again early. She hitched a wagon ride into the next village, the one the woman at the inn at told her about. The ride took Hana along rocky terrain, and she could feel the winds changing. She did not know if she would be able to beat winter here. If she could gather some more herb specimens and trade enough, Hana might be able to save enough to find herself a longer term lodging in the village she had been staying. Sitting in the back of the wagon, beside baled straw and facing a nonchalant looking goat, Hana pondered her options. The creaking wagon wheels and the empty mountain air was all she heard. Her thoughts drifted to Thorin, and his actions toward her. It was no big deal to him, helping me. He probably has not spared me a passing thought since, except to wonder when I'm coming back to collect my blades, if that even. Stop it. Stop thinking about him.

The youth who gave Hana the ride accepted a measure of pipe weed as payment. Hana figured he would accept it after she saw him puffing on some on their trip. She was glad he took it and did not want any of her other precious extracts. He told her where the apothecary was, in a dilapidated hovel located under a splayed yew tree. This village was even smaller than the last, so finding the hovel did not take her long. She still had to find a way back to the inn, and did not want this to take longer than necessary. As Hana approached the door, she saw it was already open, so she entered, hood up, and saw wooden shelves jutting out from the walls, lined with vials and bottles of all sizes. The sun crept through the door and cast blurred beams across the small room. An elderly man and woman were inside. The woman stood up when she saw Hana enter, and the man left. The woman was short, her thin white hair gathered back in a snood, and moved slowly. Hana walked up to the edge of the table where the woman stood and awaited her words.

"What do you need, miss?"

Hana reached in her right sleeve and pulled put a leather forearm cover. She untied the laces and carefully laid out the ten vials, one by one, labeled in her own hand. The woman observed each one intently, scowling in concentration as she studied the samples.

"Is this all you've got?"

"Yes. I wish to trade please, ma'am. I've got refined athelas, celandine, ground mushroom, and ground cannabis." She made sure she made eye contact with the woman on her last word. Hana seemed on edge, she wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, but also wanted to get a decent price for whatever the woman was interested in. As the woman inspected the vials with her gnarled, liver spot riddled hands, Hana eyes searched the shelves of the hovel. Her eyes glazed over at the different sized vials and bottles. She wondered what some of them contained. She was fixated on a cloudy green bottle with a long, thin neck, containing a silvery substance. The woman's voice jolted her back into the present. It was a lower register than Hana anticipated.

"Did you refine these yourself?"

Hana glanced back at the woman, nonplussed. "Yes."

The woman pulled five of the vials toward her and looked each on over, again. Then she looked back up at Hana.

"I want these four. Two of the athelas, two of the cannabis. I can give you twenty silver pennies, or ten silver pennies and two of the vials on that shelf over there." She motioned to the shelf on the wall to Hana's right. Hana walked over and surveyed what there was to choose from, and she swiftly picked up two vials of the scarlet red opium powder. It was a rare find, especially in this part of Middle Earth. She pushed them across the table. The woman accepted Hana's trade, and wrapped the coins and opium in a bit of cloth. Hana wondered how the woman and her husband managed to keep that much coin on hand, but live in such a ramshackle old hut.

"I'm on the lookout for anesthetics and antivenoms, girl, if you happen upon any. I'll trade you or pay a fair price." She put one withered hand on top of the other and gave Hana a curious glance. Hana took the parcel and made sure everything was there, including her own vials, before tucking it all into her cloak. Hana turned around to face her. "Thank you. I will bear that in mind, ma'am." She left, grateful the transaction was fairly short, and saw the same youth, with his cart parked in the same spot from earlier. He told her was heading back to the village before nightfall, and he would let her tag along for "another couple puffs of that strong leaf." Hana agreed, and found herself fighting off sleep, even as the bumpy ride in the back of the wagon jolted her off and on.

Hana wearily walked up the inn stairs to her room. Luckily no one blocked her entry up the steps or gave her any trouble. She did not bother to undress or even kick off her boots. A deep sleep swiftly swept over her. She woke later than she meant to the next morning, and when the sound of inn patrons in the hallway woke her, she slowly prepared herself for the day. Her clothes, which she had worn two days in a row, smelled rank, and though she did not want to, she put on a moss colored, woven muslin dress. It was not as warm as her trousers and tunic, but it would have to do. She washed up, tidied her dark hair into a long plait, and eased her sore feet into her boots. Hana did not have much in the way of food left, but did manage to get a heel of bread from the innkeeper's silent wife before setting out. This trip was long overdue. She strode purposefully in the direction of the smithy. The walk seemed shorter this time, and Hana wished she could shake the odd, churning feeling in her stomach as she inched closer and closer to the smithy. The same indignant crows whinged at her as she knocked on the door. She expected a long wait as in the past, but it was almost instantaneous after her abrupt knock that the door swung open. Thorin's eyes lingered on Hana. He barely let slip a hint of a smile and said, "Good day to you, Hana. I was wondering where you had disappeared to."

Hana did not want to give off an air of weakness, even though at this moment she was feeling so. A different sort of weakness. "I have not disappeared anywhere, I…..I've just been busy elsewhere."

He motioned to her lip and jawline. "The bruises are looking better. So is your lip." He deep voice had gone strangely quiet.

Hana still felt the flutter in her gut. Perhaps it was the old bread she had eaten. Maybe it was something else causing the discomfort. She looked back at Thorin, in both eyes.

"Thank you. They feel better." She managed a smile back. Hana took a step back. Thorin snapped out of the momentary fog he lapsed into and beckoned her inside.

"Your blades are done. Right here, if you want to come in." He walked back into the forge. She could hear the rustle and heavy thud of metal and paper. Hana also heard the baleful rumble of thunder overhead. She craned her neck to see out the window, and the sky had grown ominously dark. Thorin emerged after a few minutes, holding the blades, wrapped in cloth, and laid them out on the long table in front of her. Hana picked them up, one by one, and marveled at the precise sharpness. They had been buffed and polished. He had spent considerable time on them. Thorin brought Hana back in the moment by picking one of them up and looking it over, suspiciously. The interlacing carvings on the handle and streamlined blade stood out to him. Elvish make. He held it in both hands and then spoke. His tone changed from kind to stern rapidly.

"Can I ask where you acquired this one? It looks as if it's…." Hana interrupted him before she could stop herself.

"Elf-made. It is. It was given to me…." She sighed dramatically. "When I was a young girl." She gave a nonchalant flip of her hand on "girl".

Suddenly the thunder rocked Hana alert. "Here," she said, retrieving five of her silver pennies and a vial of opium. "I hope this covers your time and trouble. Not just for the knives, but for your help when I was…"

"It's no trouble. None at all." It was Thorin's turn to interrupt. His voice made Hana's scalp crinkle. He did not move. He put the Elven knife down.

"No, I insist. I am not a swindler; I am not some wretch who can't take care of herself. Please. " She forcefully put it on the table. She stared him down, this time, with such determination she felt her temper start to rise. Thorin did not back down, but did pick up the vial and held it close, a few inches from his eyes, to inspect it.

"What is this?"

'It's opium powder. I gathered it, I ground it. It is used to treat and numb severe pain. So, the next time you hurt yourself, that should help."

Thorin smiled. A full smile this time, even revealing his teeth. "Well, that happens to me fairly often, in this line of work. And I usually just bear it as best I can. Thank you. This I will keep. Not the coins. Not a chance."

Hana raised her eyebrows and folded her arms, as if to say, take it all. Now. The dogged stare down between the woman and the blacksmith held fast.

Why is he being so stubborn, Hana thought. Damn Dwarf. He pities me. Thorin shook his head at her. No. The thunder broke their fixation on each other. It was loud enough to shake the walls. Down came relentless torrents of rain.

"Well, I'm leaving. And I'm not taking this with me." She spoke plainly. Hana turned on her heels to leave, peering out the window. The rainfall was still heavy.

"No point in leaving just now," Thorin said. He looked upwards toward the roof and the hammering rain, then back at her. He paused for a moment and put another log in the fire. "Tell me of your dealings with Elves."