Skywolf42: A hint of citrus, sort of (orange). Stay tuned. Inge: There's more apologies :( . Forgive any typing errors. I was editing this late at night (again). Thank you for your reviews, all!

Hana glanced at the door for a few seconds after he left her. Her eyes lingered on the bolt, carefully installed. She mulled over his words in her head, still infuriated that he was dishonest with her. Who in hell did he think he was? She knew. She felt patronized. Hana walked over to the bolt and engaged and disengaged three times before becoming impatient and annoyed with herself. She kicked the door angrily, then cross with herself because it hurt her foot. Hana had to make better use of her time.

She was not going to concern herself with it or thoughts of him anymore. No, she would not.

That evening, after consuming her small meal of a humble soup consisting of boiled roots, herbs, and dried meat, she allowed herself a smoke of her pipe. Hana filled her lungs with the concentrate of the weed; it made them throb vigorously. Her nostrils tingled. Her mood improved, as she came off of the glorious high. It sent her into a restful sleep, free from the vexing realm of dreams. Or so she thought.

The lull did not last. Frequently after that night, Hana had been plagued by disturbing images in her dreams. The last she had that she could clearly remember was strange, non-linear flashes of images replayed in her mind's eye. Hana remembered being hidden behind a large, rounded rock face, crouched behind it with her knife drawn. She remembered throwing her knife into a Warg's grotesque face as an arrow fired from several yards away killed it, then another killing its rider. From what she could see, the archer was Kili. Only she was not with him or any of the other Dwarves. She was accompanied by an Elf, who was not making any move to help them. He was staring at her, bewildered and apprehensive.

It was then Hana woke up from the dream shaking and breathless, too perplexed to fall back to sleep.

Two days after Thorin barged into her home to install the bolt, Hana walked out into the cold midday, her mind floating, disconnected and elsewhere. The sound of her feet trodding the soggy ground muffled the din of the crows that surrounded her in the looming trees. Their subdued chorus sounded as frigid as the air around her. Long beams of welcome sunshine warmed her hut and the clearing around it; Hana hoped it would melt some more snow by nightfall. It had become slushy and messy and she was tired of it. She strode over to the well and lowered the pail down, slowly turning the crank until it disappeared into the darkness at the bottom. After about two minutes, Hana estimated it was close to full. She was preoccupied as she hauled it up, hand over hand motion pulling the rope. She reached over to detach the pail from the rope, and was unimpressed by the cloudy water it yielded. This will need a boil over the fire before I use it, she thought. She paused a few seconds before the crow chorus grew louder and frenzied, signaling a change. The wind rustled through the pines, gaining strength, and she stood up, ready to carry the pail back inside for boiling. When she leaned over to pick it up, she looked out over the edge of the clearing, less than a hundred yards away, Hana saw a figure approaching. The hair on the back of her neck crinkled with warning, working up into her scalp. After about a couple minutes she recognized him. His long dark hair was pulled loosely back into a ponytail. He wore a long cloak and thick boots with squared off toes. Thorin was striding purposefully towards her, looking rather aloof. The woods seemed to clear a path for him.

He looked distressed and his breath was a series of restless pants, no doubt from having walked all the way from Eldfell through the woods in the cold air. As he walked up to where she stood, Hana slowly straightened out her back, one hand on the cold, and gritty edge of the well, the other by her side. She was not ready for this confrontation, but would endure it. It would happen eventually. He stopped about five feet from her, assessing her visually. The wind blew loose strands of her hair across her face; the rest was in a plaited knot worn low on the back of her neck.

"Where have you been? I've not laid eyes on you in over a week." His eyes searched her for injury. His face read with concern, as the cold turned his breath into puffs of glowing white vapor.

Hana stared out ahead, blankly, avoiding eye contact. She waited a moment before answering him. "I have been here, getting things done. I have needed to." Then she defiantly looked him squarely in the eye. "Why?" She did not bother to mask the sharpness in her tone anymore. Her stance was hostile, and then she turned her back to him.

Thorin grew agitated. She picked up the pail and hauled it inside the hut. Thorin followed her up to the front stoop, wordless. She left it just inside the door and then turned around, walking back out towards the woods, and began to pick up long branches and brush from the ground to appear busy. She would later use the wood for her fires. Her feet tramped through the carpet of snow, pine cones and pine needles. He continued to trail behind her, at a loss for words. Hana turned around and cocked her head to one side, awaiting his answer. "Why, Thorin?"

He furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes with both hands held out to her as if waiting to be handed something. "Because I… care. You should know that by now." He shook his head briskly with mild annoyance.

Hana did not appreciate the head shake. "Should I now? You do not care enough to tell me the truth about who you are. (He began to mouth "I don't know what you mean" but did not finish the sentence.) She waited for his rebuttal, then spoke. "Yes, Thorin, I know. I KNOW who you are now, heir of Durin." Hana was breathing so hard it was visible beneath her cloak. It was partly due to the cold, but also her rising anger. She was about to erupt and there was no stopping it. Hana could not keep still. "Don't bother denying it. You KNOW who I am. I have told you about my past and where I came from…(she let out a deep, shaky breath) and confided in you things I have never uttered aloud. But YOU!"

Hana pointed her right index finger at him, indignant. She held it in the air a second, and then lowered her arm, balling her hand up in a fist. Her eyes were alight like lightning piercing the sky during a thunderstorm. Like the one brewed in her as she spoke.

"You failed to tell me who you are. You are no simple blacksmith, but a king. The king of Erebor, no less. And you could not be bothered to tell me." Her eyes, while still ablaze with anger were glassing over with tears. Hana cursed herself for letting them show, but point of holding the tears in had long since past. He had hurt her, and she wanted him to know it.

"Don't you know what that means, to me? To our friendship? Did you think me a simpleton, that I would never figure this out? Just some stupid woman, to be used? Did you think me a spy?" Thorin had never heard her speak in such a way before. She felt as if something was pressing under her rib cage, hindering her breathing. "Well I am no simpleton. I'm not a spy. I suppose I am a fool, though. A fool to have trusted you."

Thorin took the chance to defend himself against her verbal diatribe, though he was blindsided by what he had heard. He became noticeably perturbed. "You are misguided in your anger, Hana." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then continued. "You misunderstand me. I do not tell anyone who I am, beyond my own kind! Out of caution, because there are those who would gladly see me dead. And if you must know, out of shame."

He touched his the heel of his right hand to his forehead, stressed and flustered. He was not shouting, but the tone rose in volume and his voice was growing labored. "We were driven out, Hana, and there was nothing I could do to help my people. If you were in my position, I think you would have done the same! I was going to tell you, in time."

Thorin fell silent, his head quickly bowed low to the ground, breathing hard and deeply, stewing like a kettle simmering over a fire. He did not dare look up at Hana, which she interpreted in the worst way.

"You can't even look me in the eye?" Hana asked. "I don't believe you. You must have very little regard for me, to think me so undeserving of your honesty. No matter. This is no longer worth my energy." She gave a defeated wave of her hand. Voice cracking, she turned away from him, facing the well, and smeared tears from her face with her sleeve, ashamed she had let him see her in such a state, that she had not kept her emotions more controlled. She took a couple of steps away from him when she felt him grab her arm. He turned her around to face him. She tried to shake him off but he did not let go. Hana looked downward. Her hands were not free to wipe tears away and it embarrassed her. Hana spoke in a low voice. "Unhand me, Thorin." She met his eyes, teeth clenched, eyes blazing. "Now." She did not relax her fists. "I still have my free will, whether you are a king or not."

"NO! You're wrong! Listen to me!" He shouted back at her heatedly, voice guttural, anxious and wounded. "You couldn't be more wrong, Hana, about my regard for you. (His breath was pained and erratic, as if someone had hit him in the ribs.) He did not let go of her. His words reflected how hers had cut into him, a rare show of emotion. Thorin's voice had grown agonized and loud she felt his breath on her face. She was still in his grasp, restrained. His huge hands held her firmly, but not to hurt her. He held her in front of him, his hands around her upper arms.

Hana said nothing for a moment. "I'm listening," she stated finally, downcast. She was wearing her sadness and betrayal all over her face. The somber song of the crows grew louder as she awaited his answer.

"Forgive me for hiding my past from you. It truly is my badge of shame, one I have worn since the day the dragon ran us out. I did not tell you yet, mainly for that reason. But I also wanted you to know me, as a person first, not as anything else."

Thorin's usually gruff voice grew softer but hoarse, and he spoke in a tone Hana had not heard before. "Surely you can understand that."

Hana stared at him, rather dazed. "I can understand it. I know about painful memories and the burden it places on the heart. But I thought you trusted me. I would not judge you," she replied.

He continued, but the frustration was apparent. "I DO trust you. I have no higher regard…for anyone. No one else on this earth." Hana gradually raised her eyes up to him. Their eyes were linked, fixed on each other for two or three solid minutes. Both were short of breath.

He studied her face, which still bore the wounds from the ambush by the petty dwarves.

"How can I believe that?" Hana asked softly, still held in his grasp. Her eyes searched him for an answer.

"Because when I look at you, when I am with you, I…I come alive." He exhaled audibly as he finished. Thorin slowly let go of Hana's arms. He studied her confounded reaction at first, her cheeks burned red and flushed. He could see her expression soften as she processed his last sentence.

What?

Then, his hands on either side of her face, he gently, cautiously leaned down to touch his lips to hers, keeping her eye contact until their skin touched . He turned his head to the right. As their faces connected , he felt hers was damp with cold tears she had shed shortly before. Thorin pressed his lips into Hana's, their mouths opening slightly as he caught her upper lip with his. His hands pressed down on her jaw and Hana whimpered and suddenly jerked backwards. He let go of her again, and she panted as she rubbed the left side of her jaw. "Idiot," Thorin muttered in Khuzdul under his breath, shaking his head. Hana glanced up at him, as he met her eyes, dejected. "Forgive me, Hana, truly, I didn't mean to…I forgot. I'm a fool, I..." he backed away from her.

Hana stepped forward slowly and silenced him by kissing him back, draping one arm around his neck, then the other. She dug her fingers into Thorin's hair, reaching his scalp with her nails as she savored his lips, boldly consuming his mouth. His lips returned her enthusiasm, bearing down on hers eagerly but tenderly.

Their chests pressed hard against each other, Hana felt his pounding heart beating on her. He felt hers beating hard as well, and the curves of her upper body thrilled him. Their hiss of their deep, heaving breaths overtook the ambient sound of the crows and the wind. Thorin, careful not to touch her face even though he fervently wanted to, wrapped his arms around her waist, daring to reach underneath her cloak. His palms traveled upward, his fingertips teasingly tracing her spine. Hana released his mouth for a moment and touched her forehead to his. "It's alright," she whispered. He nuzzled her nose and cheeks with his own prominent nose, caressing her with it.

"No, it isn't. I'm sorry. But I want you to promise me something." His right thumb delicately caressed her lip and trailed down to her chin.

"What?" Hana answered quietly. She opened her eyes and faced his. His low, throaty voice made her forget the crows in the background.

"By my beard, I never want to see your face marred, bruised or bloodied again, as long as I live. Nor any other part of you."

Hana moved her hands to his chest and looked up at Thorin, unwaveringly. She nodded and then spoke. "I want you to promise me something as well. From this point onward: we are completely truthful with each other. In everything." (She reached down and took both of his hands in hers). "Swear it to me, as I do to you."

Thorin gazed on her fixedly. "I swear it, Hana. Upon my honor." He nodded pensively in emphasis.

He then kissed her gently on the top of her head, held his lips there for a few seconds, and they touched foreheads as they embraced tightly.

"Do you care that I'm a Dwarf?" He asked her quietly.

Hana eyed him intently. She shook her head. "No. I never have. Do you care that I'm not?"

Thorin regarded her just as intently, arms still wrapped around her. "No," he answered huskily. The wind lightly pummeled them, whipping the ends of their cloaks and into the trees. They held each other in the warm embrace, neither wanted to let go. When they did after a few moments, Thorin held both her hands, rather insistently. She smiled wearily. She blinked purposefully, slowly.

"I'd better get a move on. I've got work to do, I'm afraid. I shan't be very interesting company today. There's water to boil before I make this evening's meal, - " she looked off to the side comically. "I have clothes to wash and onions to chop." She looked back at him as she trailed off. "What?"

Thorin let go and folded his arms across his broad chest. He smiled back at her warmly. "Are to trying to get rid of me, then?," He said with a twitching nod.

Hana put her hands on her hips sternly. "No," she answered with a jaunty raise of her brows and a not entirely convincing tone. "But I'm just…informing you…"

"Must I go? I confess, I am not much help, but I'll do…whatever you tell me to." He smirked as his arms remained folded, a loose, silver strand of his hair blew free.

Hana pinched her lips in almost a pucker, she sized him up, her eyes narrowed. "It will be boring, Thorin."

Thorin leaned in closer to her, speaking quietly. "Not for me, it won't." he kissed her quickly on the mouth. "Put me to work."

Hana smiled back at him, a slight somberness to it as she turned round, heading for the door. He followed.

Hana sat inside, beside the hearth, and spent the next couple of hours busying herself with manual work. She washed some clothes, and the rest of the well water over the hearth spent a while on a slow simmer. Thorin asked how he could be of help to her, and she had him busy chopping dried wild onions. She noticed it was probably not something he spent a lot of time doing, as he was a bit clumsy at it. Twice she looked up from her perch by the hearth, only to see him miss and the knife end up in the floor instead of over the mat she had handed him. Hana hoped he would not hurt himself, as he had proven himself an onerous patient. After about six or seven minutes of frustrated chopping, Thorin presented Hana with the onions, irregular sized and maimed. She chuckled and thanked him, then added it and a few vegetables to the simmering pot. They quietly ate a meager soup as night fell, hearing the shriek of a tawny owl outside. Thorin looked patiently, seriously at Hana as she ate, and she glanced back at him, self-conscious.

"What is it? Is the soup too savory? I think the onions give it flavor…" She trailed off and sat her bowl down in her lap.

Thorin took a sip from his spoon at looked into his bowl, shaking his head before he spoke prudently. "It tastes fine, Hana, thank you…" he answered. He focused on his bowl for a few seconds, preparing to speak again. She watched him fumble silently, then he spoke.

"I…wanted to ask you something," he muttered, the lapping fire reflecting in his eyes.

Hana widened her eyes expectantly at him, both brows raised in encouragement.

He surveyed the wall behind her and the door, delaying.

"Yes?" Hana wanted to know what kept him suddenly quiet, but she was also growing annoyed.

"In a few nights' time, I have a gathering with some of my kin and friends. I want you to be there as well. As my…my (he allowed a loaded pause) friend."

They shared a mutual lingering glance. "It will be at a fairly secretive location," Thorin continued. "It's no secret Dwarves are inhabiting the area, but when we convene…it is not something we usually share with others. Especially those who are not Dwarves."

Hana watched him, head-on. "Well, I am your friend," she replied. "And I would not share this with anyone…firstly, because I don't have anyone to tell. Secondly, because it is not my business." She took a sip of water. After letting out an audible breath, she held the cup in both hands, leaned over knees. "I will go, if you want me to," she stated. "Do you want any more to eat?" She asked as she stood up and approached him. He shook his head in decline, and she motioned for him to hand her the bowl to wash. He set it down and reached for her hand. "I do," he said softly, admiring the loose, dark strands of hair that had come loose from her plait.

They spent much of the rest of the evening, quietly sitting in each other's presence as Hana worked. Their conversation was light. She was still not completely over his withholding of information, but told herself to move on, he had apologized and she told herself to forgive him. She would, in time. He left her that evening with a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of her right hand. They made plans to meet in three day's time, at the smithy, at dusk. From there they would venture to an undisclosed location where the Dwarves would meet.

The day Hana went to meet Thorin, she had spent most of out in the woods, tracking an animal. She had noticed the tracks, deep in mud, and surmised it was a sizeable predator. Each track was four toed, similar to a wolf's but larger. The claws were longer and more narrow, the heels like rounded triangles. Whatever the predator was, it might have been a reason for scarce game in the area. Hana was tempted to stay out in the woods, searching for the animal, but thought the better of it. She was out in the woods until about two in the afternoon, and returned to her hut with two scraggy quails. She decided to take them with her to Eldfell, figuring she and Thorin would eat them before or at wherever they were meeting the Dwarves that night. She washed her face and hair, and carefully plaited her hair hanging down her back. Hana changed into her cleanest clothes, pulled on her cloak and set out into the low, late afternoon sun, quails in tow.

It was the first time she had been back to the smithy since leaving in a fury weeks before. Strangely, it felt much longer since that morning she stormed out. She felt different, something in her had changed. This time, when she knocked on the door, she was promptly met by Thorin, who let her in moments later. Hana gingerly stepped into the smithy as he opened the door, its slow creak the only sound either of them heard at first.

He smiled at her, watching her pensively as Hana adjusted her pack that was slung over her shoulder and shook her plait from underneath the strap. She recalled what happened between them the last time they were together, and felt gooseflesh raise underneath her clothes.

"How have you been?" he asked quietly.

Hana returned the smile. "Fine," she answered unostentatiously. "I brought us these, if you can stand them," she said, pulled the quails out of her cloak, wrapped in a cloth. "I suppose I can add them to a stew or something. They're um, rather gaunt, I'm afraid."

He stood in front of her, and watched her, with his hands behind his back casually.

Hana widened her eyes and gave a side nod of her head, silently asking him what the matter was. Thorin looked down as he answered.

"Thank you. You didn't have to bring anything but yourself, though." He glanced back at her, in the eye, matter of factly.

Hana pulled over a chair and sat down, heaving a deep sigh. She removed her boots and wiggled her feet, giving them a break from the constraints. She closed her eyes as she moved her toes. "I know I didn't have to. I figured I may as well, though. Game in these parts is growing more scarce by the day." She turned her head from side to side, trying to loosen her stiff neck.

She opened her eyes to see him still watching her, mildly puzzled. "When do we leave?" she asked.

Thorin did not break their eye contact. "Right now, if you are ready. I may as well warn you, they are an unruly lot," said Thorin as he pulled on his cloak, shaking his long, impressive hair out. "They mean no harm, however. " He glanced at Hana and touched his belt to ensure his blade was there. 'After you," he said, as he motioned to the door.

They trudged through the muddy road to the outskirts of Eldfell, to a small mead hall, about the size of a modest barn. As the edged closer to the door, the sounds of raucous laughter, singing, and scraping of chairs could be heard.

"Sounds like they have already downed some ale," Hana murmured, as Thorin waited for an answer to his hard, three beat knock. He smirked to himself. "Oh, without a doubt," he replied. Loud footsteps trod the ground up to the door, and an urgent voice exclaimed right behind it.

'I don't know if it's Thorin. Steady on, I'm looking!" A small window at the top of the door slid open. A beady, unfamiliar eye ogled them for a second. "Ah, it is him," said the voice belonging to the eye as the window slid back shut, sharply. The click of the bolt sounded as the door swung open slowly. A Dwarf with sharply angled brows and a hairdo of pointy reddish brown assessed them both. 'He's brought someone with him," Nori hollered over his shoulder. "Not a Dwarf. A woman."

The merriment quieted down a little as they both proceeded through the door. Dwalin, Balin, Kili, Fili and a few other Dwarves besides them who Hana did not recognize watched as she walked in, Thorin behind her. "She's safe," he bellowed sternly. "Before anyone asks, she's safe. She's…a friend." Hana thought on that word. Friend. She watched the unfamiliar faces evaluate her as she swung her pack over her shoulder. "Lovely, just lovely," Balin said, nodding repeatedly as he walked up to her. "To see you again, I mean." Perhaps Balin thought he would not, considering what had happened since she left the smithy, enraged. "Thank you," Hana answered as Fili and Kili smiled at her from afar. Kili raised his cup in acknowledgement, Fili gave a low dip of his head. Thorin had stepped aside for a minute to speak with Dwalin, when finished, he addressed two of the newer Dwarves. Dwalin walked over to Hana, who was taking in the scene around her, and handed her an ale. "Here you are, lass," he growled. "You'll need some of this to deal with these brutes." He managed a smile at her, tipped his head back and guzzled his, as he rejoined Fili and Kili at a long table close by. Hana pulled up a stool, and sat beside the fire, sipping the strong ale and watching the seated Dwarves. They all interrupted their conversation and turned to look at her a couple of times, which made her uneasy.

"What are you doing over there, Hana?" Kili asked, grinning. His face wore an exaggerated expression of hurt. "Surely we aren't that offensive," he finished with a wink and gulp of his drink. "Come join us. We need an impartial party to our, er, contest." Hana returned the smile and picked her stool up and assumed the place at the head of the table, where Kili had made a space for her. She looked around at them all, Dwalin, Fili, and the two new Dwarves watched her with inquisitiveness.

Hana nodded slowly, absentmindedly. "Right…what sort of contest is this?"

Fili smiled sheepishly at her. "We need you, our impartial party, to decide which of us has the best singing voice. " He folded his arms, nodding at her coolly. Hana narrowed her eyes as she processed his words. She saw Thorin, out of the corner of her eye, conferring earnestly with Balin in the shadows by the door.

"You can only pick one of us five here," said Dwalin, who stood up as the first volunteer. He stomped his foot as he sang, and the rhythm was joined by the others, stomping their feet and pounding their fists merrily on the table. Hana could not help but chuckle to herself as she witnessed the spectacle.

Oh, never laugh at a troll, good sir

Nor look him in the eye

For if e're you do,

You will surely die.

Aye, never laugh at a dragon, no

Don't dare to act so rash

For if e're you do

You will become a mound of…ASH! (He grinned at the last word and Kili waved his hand dramatically, expecting the pause. Thorin turned round and glanced at Dwalin disapprovingly).

Never steal from a Dwarf, they say

It would be unwise

For if e're you do,

The axe will see your demise!

Never steal another's sword

Or his bow, oh no

For if e're you do

You will be dealt a blow.

My Da did tell me this, you see

When I was just a lad

He taught me to watch my back

And know…(Dwalin held the note, his eyes grew wider every second)

To always be on my guard!

Dwalin ended laughing. The others followed, each trying to outdo the last with more gusto and bravado. Kili stood up on the table and sang the loudest of any of them, undoubtedly helped by the ale. One of the newer Dwarves, whose name was Bofur, forgot the words midway through and dissolved into giddy laughter, soaking his impressive mustache with ale. Dwalin glanced at Hana, who had been watching the performances, amused. "So what do you think, lass?" he asked as he eyed the others rapidly. "Which here sang it the best?"

Hana managed a smirk as she casually lit her pipe. "Well, I don't know," she conjectured. "All of you did a fine job."

"You have to choose one," Fili said, returning her smirk. "Only one can win the prize."

"What's that?" she asked.

Dwalin waved his cup. "Bragging rights" he answered. "And…whatever else you feel is deserved." He smiled wearily but genuinely at her. Hana shifted in her seat.

"Well..." she began. "I suppose if I must choose, I'll pick Kili," she said, flashing her teeth as she grinned. "And to the winner goes this," she reached in her sleeve and pulled out a small pouch, no longer than her thumb.

The others protested in jest when Hana announced Kili's name. "You've got to be joking, I sang my heart out just now! Kili, you can stop looking so smug," Dwalin said as she handed Kili the pouch. "You know you're no songbird." The others eyed the pouch with interest.

"What's that you gave him?" Bofur asked. The others looked at her, awaiting an answer.

"It's called Eagle's Nest", she replied nonchalantly, taking a drag from her pipe. "A finer variety of pipe weed. It's what I am smoking right now." They all looked at her, expecting more explanation. She held one hand out, palm to the ceiling. "You said whatever else I felt was deserved." Hana grinned and blew out a puff of smoke. "Maybe Kili will share if he feels like it." She beamed. Shortly after, the group disbanded somewhat, and broke into tipsy song again. Thorin walked over to join Hana, appearing remote, and brought her a bowl of stew. 'Thank you," she said as he began eating his. Hana paced herself as she ate hers, it had a strong, gamey, smoked flavor. Thorin glanced at her over his spoon. "You're welcome," he replied, nodding at her. He noticed Balin watching them from across the mead hall as the others paid no attention. "Who are these newer faces?" she asked Thorin after she finished. One of them glanced at the seated pair, focused on Hana, as if he just realized she was present and unsure as to what she was. Hana noticed one of them appeared confused, even a bit fearful. The whites of his eyes were visible, even from across the hall. "That is Bifur," Thorin answered. "If you are wondering why he looks confused (Thorin shook his head thoughtfully) he always looks like that. Probably wondering why someone like you is with someone the likes of me." Hana simpered. "What about the other one?" She whispered close to Thorin's face. Her breath was felt near his ear, which distracted him. "The one with the pointy hair?" He stopped his train of thought for a moment. Thorin turned and looked at her in the eye, and noticed the amber flecks in Hana's green eyes, and she realized she had distracted him. "I'm sorry, please continue," she said, chuckling. Thorin closed his eyes, screwed up them up quickly, and opened them again. She was all he could smell, mingled with the aroma of the Eagle's Nest smoke. She filled his senses. "That Dwarf's name is Nori, " said Thorin, becoming rather entranced.

"I know they are all a bit…rough hewn," Thorin said. "Over all, they are a stout hearted lot." He heaved deep sighs. Hana sat, leaned forward, her forearms resting on her lap as she began smoking again, tendrils of her dark hair hung loosely.

"I quite enjoyed the singing bit with them just now." She grinned slyly at Thorin, who was watching her as if they were the only two bodies in the room. "What's that mix you're puffing away on tonight?" He was sitting opposite her, arms folded, knees bent and apart.

"It's a specialty blend," she replied coyly.

Thorin nodded, and smiled to himself as he looked down at the floor, then cast his eyes once again on her without moving. "Indeed…from where?"

The right side of Hana's mouth turned up as both rows of her teeth showed. "Not exactly sure of its origins, beyond what I was told. I traded for this."

"In Briarly?"

Hana glanced at him, not blinking for several seconds.

"No, Thorin." She blew smoke out ever so slowly, then handed him the pipe.

"I'll tell you later. Try some." He looked at the pipe, his arms still folded, with oblique suspicion. She turned her head to the right, prompting him.

He took a drag, slow and deliberate. The fast acting smoke felt divine as he inhaled it, the richly herbal vapors overtook his nostrils and made him tingle to his fingertips. Hana smiled at him as she watched him close his eyes a second to relish, then opened them again on her. He heard, he saw, he felt her everywhere.

Thorin lowered the pipe down gradually, not breaking his stare at her. He handed her back the pipe, pressing it into her hand as he looked at her, then stood up with a start. "I'm stepping out for a bit….I need air." He waved her off with his hand, though Hana made no move to follow him. "Alone….I need to be alone. I'll return shortly," he said. She was puzzled, and figured her smoke may have bothered him as its aroma lingered in the air. But how? Thorin smoked a pipe himself, frequently. Had she sat too close to him, or annoyed him? Hana scowled, intrigued, in his direction as he aimed for the door, speaking to no one on the way.

Thank you, OrangeGoggles, for co-editing this opus with me. :)