Guest reviewer from 9/24: Here is an overdue update. As things intensify with Hana and Thorin's story, it takes me longer to write and make suitable for reading. Hope this is worthy! :)
Balin saw what had transpired from afar, and waited until Hana took a long heaving breath before he joined her. She was staring at the fire blankly, and turned only when Balin addressed her.
"How are you tonight, lass?" he asked politely as he sat beside her, as she pinched the end of her pipe heedlessly. After a pause, she answered Balin. "Fine," she said coolly, with a shrug of her shoulders. He looked toward the door, where Thorin had just exited, and sighed fretfully. "He's hard to figure out….Thorin is," said Hana suddenly. "I don't know what just happened…or how I offended him." She met Balin's eyes and simpered rather bitterly. She held her glance, as if prompting an explanation.
"He's a prickly one, as you know. But I don't think you offended him," Balin offered, shaking his head slowly.
Hana raised her brows at him. "Oh no? Then why did he up and walk out so suddenly? All I was doing was smoking and I asked who Nori was."
Balin faced the floor, smiled and shook his head.
"Why did he bother asking me to come with him if he's going to act this way?" She looked at the door blankly, blocking out the background noise. Then she turned to look at Balin again, at a loss and irate.
A hint of a smile appeared on his lips, as if expecting Hana to read his thoughts. "Can you not think why?" he asked her. His smile broadened. "Don't repeat this, but Thorin is intimidated by you. Intimated and intrigued. It's obvious. And he doesn't seek out just anyone's company, unless he trusts them. I think his actions have conveyed more than his words ever could."
Hana felt gooseflesh raise under her sleeves. Her cheeks turned crimson, her scalp tingled. Balin noticed her blush and continued.
"It is said things don't grow in cold, much is covered in snow, dead." He nodded emphatically to himself. "In many ways, Hana, that is true. But some things do grow in the cold. I've been watching this grow over the last few months." Hana frowned at him, and cocked her head ever so to the right, in mild doubt. Thorin walked back inside the hall, and sat with his nephews, who had moved closer to the door. He faced Hana and Balin, and scanned the room for her, and stared at her fixedly. He did not look angry, but was not smiling or laughing either. Balin leaned in close to Hana, close enough he could whisper to her.
"He does not look like that at anyone or anything else, Hana," he whispered, before patting her on the shoulder and standing up.
Hana shook her head decisively as she glowered back at Thorin. "I think your eyes are playing tricks on you," she whispered back.
Balin looked at Thorin, then at her. Balin wore a sagacious expression on his face. "I may be old, but my eyes are still sharp," he replied. He walked away, and his words replayed in her head over and over. Hana got up and left, and the heavy door closed with a creaky thud after her, delivering her into the calm night.
Her exit did not go unnoticed.
The cold night air felt good on her cheeks, as did the light, chilly mist in the breezy air. Hana looked up into the night sky, streaked with hazy borealis and a smattering of faint, almost invisible stars. The merriment inside picked up fervor again, someone had broken into song. Hana lost herself in the stars and the raucous sounds from the hall, intermingled with light thunder and the distant, mournful howl of a wolf. The wind blew through her scalp, chilling her, and Hana became immersed in her thoughts. She studied what she was certain was a constellation and she barely noticed the door creak open. The breeze strengthened, and drummed against her ears and cloak.
"What are you doing out here?" Thorin asked her, his deep, stern voice echoing sounds of reprimand, cutting through the night's natural melody. He stepped closer and closer toward Hana, as the revelry indoors only grew louder.
Hana did not look at him for a few deliberate moments, her eyes focused above the horizon. Then she turned to her left and eyed him.
"Same reason as you said earlier," Hana answered plainly. The moonlight cast a foggy bluish white light on them both. "I needed some fresh air." Thorin watched her intensely, eyes anchored on her.
"And what better way to spend night hours than watching these…" she turned her attention upward again.
"That constellation is called Ursa Major," she said, motioning ahead of them with her right index finger. "It means big bear."
Thorin narrowed his eyes at the formation, confounded. "Doesn't look much like a bear to me. Looks more like a bird."
Hana continued, ignoring his comment. "The hindquarters are brightest. That one below it (she motioned with the side of her hand) is Draco. It means..."
"Dragon." Thorin answered her before she continued. Hana sighed wistfully, a resigned sadness in her eyes as they shifted to the fainter stars above them. "Yes," she said quietly. The wind rustled through the distant trees drowsily.
"There are few things in this world more beautiful than the stars. I could watch them all night." Thorin watched her as he studied the wistful wonder and melancholy in her upward cast eyes.
"I can think of a few things more beautiful," he said steadily. Hana's eyes were set on the sky, she acted unaware he was speaking.. "They remind me of home. Before home was taken from me. They were a guide to us during the exodus. They still guide us." Thorin murmured barely above a whisper.
Hana nodded slowly, empathically. The moments that passed between them were laden and tense. A flock of migrating geese flew overhead, their bodies cast silver by the moon, their high-pitched honks sounding through the soft wind.
"You'll probably want to rejoin the others soon," Hana declared. 'They'll be wondering where you are, Thorin." She looked at him with a hint of mock scolding. "You are their leader, after all."
He gave a brisk shake of his head and snorted. "I don't need to rejoin them just yet," he said, as his low register made her heart pound. The entire group of Dwarves was singing and laughing, and seemed worlds away from Hana and Thorin.
Hana turned her head more to the left and gave him a mildly shocked look, and he looked penetratingly back at her. He turned his body toward her and gazed at Hana, and she at him. He reached for her right hand. "I behaved like a brute last time," Thorin said.
She frowned at him. "When? What are you talking about, Thorin? If you mean a little while ago, that was odd, (she nodded on "odd") but not brutish…"
"By the well. The day…the day I visited you to apologize." He stammered. "I was too forward, too presumptuous. I could not help myself."
Hana's furrowed brows relaxed when she realized his meaning. "You mean when you kissed me," she replied.
"Yes," Thorin said humbly, his look unswerving.
Hana held his hand but did not look back at him at first. She glanced down at the ground. She swallowed nervously. "I was eager, too. I don't regret that kiss. But….why…..(she met his eyes again) why did you abruptly leave me tonight? In the middle of the conversation? Did I offend you?" She asked him dubiously. "You just up and left me. All I did was ask you a question."
Thorin let out a long, hissing breath. "You really want me to tell you why?"
"Yes. Our policy of truth is fully in effect now, Thorin. Tell me, I'm a big girl, I can…."
Thorin gripped her hand tightly. "You did not offend me. You tempted me. I had to come out here to think." His interruption silenced her.
Thorin sighed, long and slow. "And cool off."
Hana erratically looked off to the right, flustered and quite embarrassed. "Oh…"
Thorin pulled her closer to him in a tight embrace. "I'm not complaining," he said. "Whatever Balin told you about me is entirely… true." His eyes were impassioned, even in the dark. He searched her eyes for some sort of reaction as the gleam of the moon reflected off of them.
She wrapped her arms around him; Thorin's swathed about her waist under her cloak and he pulled her as close as he could. He could feel her heart pounding on his chest. "Thank you for coming with me tonight," he offered. "And for putting up with me."
Hana had the feeling he wanted to tell her more, but he did not. Instead, he just looked at her mouth for a moment, and kissed it as she pushed up against him. He felt warm, even hot against her. His beard scratched her face as hers turned right, his left, and his hands lazily rubbed the groove at the base of her spine.
"What if the others see?" Hana said, inches from his lips.
He observed the painterly symmetry of her upper lip. "Let them," Thorin whispered with a hint of a smile. "If I had wanted to hide this, I would not have asked you to accompany me."
Hana thought on being introduced as his friend earlier. She thought about bringing it up then, but decided against it. Honestly, she was his friend. They were…friends. Both of them knew they were crossing the lines beyond simple friendship, but neither had the courage to admit it to each other.
Hana pulled away from him after a few moments, albeit reluctantly. They stood opposite each other, their hands joined.
"It must be nearly midnight or later by now. I should be heading home…(she sighed and looked at him). I've got the walk home ahead of me."
Thorin rubbed the veins on the tops of her hands with his thumbs. He nodded. "I understand. Would you permit me to accompany you, Hana?" He looked back into her eyes at the utterance of her name. She rolled her eyes and shook her head a bit. She could walk it alone. "Please? I just want to see you home safe."
Hana realized the sounds coming from the mead hall had waned. The lights inside were still blazing and no one had left.
"Very well," she replied, as she squeezed his hands, in a sort of prompt to make him release hers. "Though I am not sure it is a good idea for you to traipse through the woods alone at night."
Thorin let go of her and followed her as they walked back inside. "I won't be," he said lowly behind her. "We will have company on our walk back. I hope you don't mind that." Hana turned around and glanced back at him. "Not at all," she answered, smiling. He returned it, wearily.
Kili and Fili had been sitting by the fire speaking with Bofur, who was regaling them with some serious sounding tale. Dwalin had fallen asleep a few feet away from them, upright in his chair, his head tipped back, mouth agape. Nori and Balin were also speaking, but stopped when they saw Hana and Thorin reenter the hall. Balin excused himself from the discussion and met them, smiling warmly. "You both were gone…a while. Missed quite a sing along. I know you are both just heartbroken to hear that." He chortled as Thorin smirked back. "Beside ourselves," Thorin retorted. "I think we are going to be on our way now. Will you be coming with us, or should I expect you along later?" He leaned in as he spoke.
Balin watched them both with a knowing glance. "I think I'll be along later," he said as he turned round to see who all was asleep. Bifur and Dwalin were asleep now. He faced Thorin and touched his arm. "There is more to discuss," he said earnestly. "Tomorrow," he emphasized, nodding.
Thorin reciprocated his nod. "Right then. I'll go collect the lads." He took a few steps until his nephews made eye contact, then he beckoned them over. As they were getting their cloaks and belongings, Thorin eyed Hana in hers briefly.
"Will you be warm enough in that?" He queried over his shoulder as he aimed for the door, his look and tone concerned.
Hana pulled on her gloves. "Yes. I'll be fine," she replied wearily. Fili and Kili were clearly out of momentum as they readied to depart. Thorin led the way out, as Hana turned around and waved with a smile to Balin. He bowed his head at her, his squinted eyes jolly and his grin saying it all. I told you so.
The walk back into Eldfell lasted about an hour, because they stopped at Hana's hut first. Kili and Fili walked ahead of Hana and Thorin along the road, enough paces ahead so their conversation was not as easily heard. Hana heard them mutter something about Dwalin "overdoing it with the ale" and laughing as they talked. Thorin walked beside Hana wordlessly during the walk, and as they passed the lit inn, he noticed her watch it pensively. He wanted to reach for her right hand, but did not. Instead he peered over at her as she walked beside him, watching the road ahead. After a moment Hana turned and looked at him, and mirrored his tired smile.
When they got to the door of her abode, Thorin asked his nephews to wait on him as he escorted Hana inside. He unbolted it from the outside and lit a candle he saw beside her bed as Hana held his torch for him. He scanned around the inside of the humble dwelling, to ensure it was safe. Hana took the candle and lit another for added light.
"Will you be warm enough tonight?" He asked her in his bellowing growl.
She nodded, smiling brightly. "Yes, I think so."
Thorin and Hana beheld each other for several minutes in the stark contrast. The two small candles afforded them little light in the pitch-black darkness. Thorin just watched her, bathed in dramatic shadow. Hana saw sentiment in his tired eyes, it enlivened her. There was also a hunger visible that excited her, and stirred her nerves.
Thorin snapped out of his staring fog. "Well then….(he turned and looked absentmindedly off to the left, distracted) I will be going now. I will call on you within a few days, if that is agreeable." He ended the sentence focusing intently on her face.
"Yes, it is," Hana affirmed. He swung around and made for the door, but stopped when Hana called softly to him. "Good night, Thorin," she murmured. She unflinchingly took his hand and held it, sandwiched between her palms.
Thorin gripped her right as his heart hammered in his chest with violent emotion. "Good night, Hana," he answered softly, as he kissed it, his lips pressing into the veins. He held his mouth on it for a moment, and then turned and left abruptly. Hana breathlessly touched where his lips had just been on her right hand. Her fingers felt the tingly warmth left behind, as her heart beat so loudly she could hear it ringing in her ears.
Three nights had passed before he came to her door, early in the briskly cold morning. Hana had thought about a lie in the night before, since she had gotten to bed later than she wanted, but it did not happen this morning. Thorin's knock snapped her to attention, as she laid down the trousers she was mending and stood to answer it. "Is that you, Thorin?" She asked, her ear to the door.
"Yes, Hana," he said somewhat solemnly. "It is me."
Hana carefully unbolted the door and in Thorin walked, presenting himself harried and flustered. His face was faintly raw and reddened from the morning exposure, and his hands were freezing when Hana touched them. He just watched her, saying nothing at first. "Why on earth are you not wearing gloves?" She chided him, as her fingertips traced over the dry skin and nicked knuckles.
Thorin shook his head forgetfully. "Forgive me, I forgot. I will put them on when I leave," he said.
"Leave?" Hana replied quizzically. "You just got here. Have you got time for some tea?"
Thorin shook his head again. "Not today. I can't, I'm sorry. I came to tell you…I'm leaving."
He saw Hana's eyes widen in shock and mounting horror. She did not realize how obvious her alarm was until he spoke. 'Wha….," she began.
"Not permanently. I'm travelling to Selfoss." He panted, frustrated. "For a meeting of my people. All of us are going, Kili, Fili, Balin, Dwalin, Nori…we are meeting a small group of Dwarves, to try and forge an alliance, expand our support."
Hana thought aloud. "Selfoss…that is a good distance away, at least a hundred miles. Not much to it, as I recall, smaller than Eldfell…" She had released his hands, hers gripped the sides of her plain brown dress anxiously as she muttered, mostly to herself.
Thorin nodded. "Aye, a hundred miles there at least. I will be gone up to a month. The meeting will fall in late Autumn, a period of solemnity for Dwarves. It commemorates the diaspora of my kind into the mountains. It includes a three day observance of song and fasting." He spoke almost in monotone, very sad.
Hana watched the floor. "A month?" she asked quietly, her arched brows noticeable even as she faced downward.
The tone in her voice hurt him to hear. "Up to a month. I will be back before two full moons pass."
"When do you leave?" Hana asked as she turned her back to him and slung her trousers on the back of her only chair. She sat down on it, leaning her elbows on her knees as she scratched her scalp, agitated. Then she sat upright again and wrung her hands in her lap.
"By midday today," he answered as he trod the ground heavily to where she sat. "Are you cross with me, Hana?" He asked fearfully.
She shook her head. "No, Thorin…."
"You certainly seem like you are. I only just found out this meeting was happening two days ago. We all wanted to go before the snows fell hard." He ogled the top of her head intensely as he explained himself. "Please, please do not be cross with me." He sat opposite Hana on the floor, and touched the end of her long, loose plait. He gently rubbed the hairs on the end between his thumb and forefinger, as one would a painter's brush. His eyes trailed from the end of her plait to her crown, then to her face.
"I'm not, Thorin. I - it's just a long time." She admitted, breathing deeply, her voice low. "And quite dangerous." She searched herself within for her words. "You have the mountain pass to cross, the weather could worsen, not to mention the other dangers…predators, Orcs.."
Thorin reached for Hana's hands and held both. "I will be careful. I have to return to you. If we are fortunate, they will agree, and I will be back with good news," he said as he squeezed her hands. He rubbed them with his thick, rough fingers. Hana's hands felt so small in his, even though they too were dry, they were much smoother than his own. Hana would not look at him at first. When she finally did, her eyes probed his as she suppressed tears.
"You had better come back, unhurt," she warned him. "You make an unpleasant patient, remember." Hana tried her best to suppress her tears with a wry smile.
"Yes, my lady," he answered softly. The sound of him addressing her that way filled her with warmth. He stood up with her and kissed her on the lips chastely. "I will call on you immediately after my return. It will be at night, most likely late."
"Please do. I do not care about the hour," Hana affirmed. Thorin touched her right arm above the elbow, rubbed her skin with his fingertips, then stomped out. Hana turned around, and looked into her measly fire somberly. A few minutes passed, and Thorin came back through the door, hastily and flushed. He stopped a few feet away from her.
"Did you forget something?" she asked, perplexed. He would not answer her at first. He just stood there, breathing labored.
"Thorin?" She asked him, confused.
"Yes," said Thorin breathlessly. He walked up to Hana and pulled her roughly to him. Thorin kissed Hana brazenly, his arms wrapped around her waist so tightly his fingers dug into her tailbone. She was pressed up so hard against him her ribs and stomach contracted against his between breaths. Hana broke free from the kiss and bore her eyes into his, then tightened her grip around his shoulders and hugged him as tightly as she could, as if she would have to make it last the rest of her life. Her nails dug into the back of his neck.
"Be careful, Thorin. I….be careful," she warned him.
He loosened his hold on her and acknowledged her warning faithfully. "I will, Hana." He held her right hand for a parting minute. Thorin hit the wall with a frustrated fist then departed into the bright, chilly morning.
Hana did not tell Thorin she had travel plans of her own in his absence. While he ventured northeast to Selfoss, Hana would venture the opposite direction to Vik. Vik lay partially in the woods, the bordered by a dangerous coastline broken up by very large rocks. Its inhabitants were mostly sheep farmers, but it was notorious for its transient visitors, some brought by the sea inlet. Such visitors came to deal with Vik's visitor sorcerers, witches, conjurers, of which there were many. Vik was quite unlike Briary, populated mostly by yeomen and laborers. Its trade center was simply called "the hall", and it was there Hana was headed, on high alert. Hearsay warned that it was at the hall where bounty hunters, gangsters, and sorcerers dealt. Hana was no novice when it came to such towns, but she made sure not to linger longer than necessary. Before setting out, she looked up at the sky, and observed its milky grey cloud cover. It was an indicator there was a strong chance for snowfall. Hana left the day after Thorin, and walked stealthily and earnestly through the woods. She reached Vik by early afternoon. The hall lay in the center of the small village, in the heart of the dense taiga. Before entering, she drew her hood low over her face, concealing as much as she could while still providing visibility. From the outside the hall looked like a large barn, built like the stave houses that she spotted in and en route to Vik. The base of the building was weathered and coated with moss. Outside the door was a figure standing motionless, hooded. She could not tell whether the figure was male or female under the cloak, but it was very still. Immediately upon entering the hall, Hana was enveloped in a cloud of scents, a mixture of heavy smoke, body odors, and the unmistakable odor of incense. As her eyes adjusted to the low light inside, a tall figure in a blur of dark robes whirred past Hana. It was a very tall, formidable looking woman who apparently paid no mind to her surroundings. A silver furred ferret hung round her neck like a stole, watching passers by with beady, truculent black eyes. The few people in the woman's path cleared out of her way as she exited. The woman took no notice of Hana. Hana avoided eye contact with most at the hall. It was the kind of place where making eye contact with the wrong sort would leave someone hurt, or worse. She spotted a pair of Dwarves but did not recognize either. She noticed they were dressed differently from Thorin and his kin, probably not allies of his. Hana made a mental note to tell him when he returned from Selfoss. When, not if, he returned. She put the thoughts of him behind her and tried to scope out the selection of wares in the hall amidst the hushed whispers of a few villagers stationed near the entrance. She stoicly observed the table of each vendor, every one a purveyor of unusual, some downright revolting goods. There were animals, live and deceased. The latter were being sold for meat or as dried, preserved trophies. That disgusted her, Hana saw the use of a dead animal for ornamental use as criminally wasteful. Hana saw weapons as well, ones she would have traded much for, but could not afford to get this trip. Warmth and food were the more pressing needs for the coming winter. She felt eyes of others on her as she strode past each vendor. One man, with most of his teeth rotten to the root, stood casually beside odd, not immediately identifiable entrails in jars. Some were whole specimens. Hana noticed one immediately, it stood out from all the others. It was a large black spider, the abdomen alone easily the size of her fist. The vendor, whose putrid breath was impossible to ignore, saw her eyeing it. "Can I help you?" he mumbled, expressionless. His mouth hung slightly open, rather maladroit. She gave pause before answering him. "May I ask from where you acquired this?" she queried, looking at the segmented legs, covered in hair as thick and bristly as a wild boar's. The man watched her warily for a moment, perceiving her as some sort of threat by his facial expression. After a few minutes he answered her. He folded his arms across his chest haughtily. Hana tried her best to maintain a straight face as the waft of his breath made its way into her breathing air. It was a challenge.
He looked down at the spider, then her. "Honestly, ma'am, I don't know of its origins for sure. It was found by a traveler, who sold it to my son. All I know of the seller was that he was a dabbler in some sort of dark magic." Hana nodded absentmindedly. She knelt down and got close enough to the jar to see its still beady, menacing black eyes glaring through the glass. The fangs were still pricked upright, as if in the attack position. The wary vendor was not blind to her interest in the creature. "Do you want it? I'd offer it to you for a fair price." I'm tired of looking at this ugly thing, to tell you the truth." Hana did not react at first, thinking about the last time she saw a spider that size. It was before she ventured into the mountains, when she was younger, before she fled the realm of the Elves. She thought on the spider specimen. The venom in it would still be fairly potent, since its body looked well preserved. The venom would fetch a good price or make a useful weapon. Hana considered this as she observed a small skull, which she guessed was that of a raven. She became a bit lost in thought as she eyed its long, sharp, beak and then remembered what she originally sought. Then she stood up. "Not today, sir. I am in need of salts, sulfur, and witch hazel, though."
He paused for a moment on her request, Hana assumed he would tell her he did not have any, going by his blank expression.
"Do you have those? I need them for the winter, to extend my fires, sort of a - "
"Flash flame. Yes, I do have those. I know what you mean."
Then he reached underneath the table his wares were strewn across, rustling through a wooden box out of Hana's sight. He pulled out two small burlap pouches, each pulled tightly closed at the lip by a drawstring. They were no larger than one of her feet. He dropped one. "My apologies, miss," he offered as he crouched down to retrieve it. Hana bent down to assist him, and as her hood fell back. The man glimpsed her face for a minute, as he held he pouches in his hand. She saw his confounded expression change and brighten a bit as he looked at her. They both stood up. Hana reached in her pocket for what she chose to trade, two of her few remaining silver pennies and a small vial of ground lichens. She pushed the items forward and gave him a mildly impatient look. "Will these suffice?" she asked tersely. He said nothing but took the items and handed her the pouches of salts and sulfur. He reached beside him for a small tube of witch hazel, eyed it to ensure it was what he wanted, and handed it to her.
"Make sure you add the witch hazel, about a teaspoon. Add this to a weak existing flame. It will help reduce any smells from the sulfur. A pinch of sulfur and two of the salts with a drop of the hazel should get you a decent fire. Is it a large hearth?"
Hana took the items and tucked them in her cloak. "No," she said. He leaned forward on the heels of his rough old hands casually, rather close to her.
"Are you married?" The man blurted out.
Hana blushed a bit, caught off guard. "No…" she admitted, her slow answer raising in tone suspiciously.
He nodded slowly as he processed her answer.
"Are you spoken for?" He then asked.
She hesitated before replying. Hana was fairly certain she was the only woman Thorin was spending time with, though there was no formal agreement between them. Then she recalled what he told her before departing for Selfoss, and the way she felt in their parting embrace.
"Yes, sir. I am," Hana answered firmly.
He shook his head, perceptibly let down. "More's the pity," he said glumly. Hana raised her brows at him in dismay. "I wasn't asking you for myself, but for my son over there. His name's Canute. He needs a wife to keep him company. You are clever and look fresh and strong." The man glanced at her, then motioned to the right and behind them with his thumb. "That's him there," he said. Canute was of average build, with a head full of sandy blonde hair. A younger version of his father. He stood at a small, closed off worktable in the corner of the hall, speaking to no one as he de-feathered some sort of large fowl. Canute looked decent enough, and gave a perfunctory bow of his head in greeting as his father motioned to him. The father made some sort for gesture in Hana's direction. Hana returned the nod awkwardly, then the vendor faced her. He glanced at her with disappointed, pursed lips as he handed her the salts.
"Keep him, er, in mind," he said as his eyes grew wide with emphasis. 'If you and your man don't last."
Hana bit her lip, sorting out his words. She tried not to let them affect her.
"Many thanks, sir, uhhhh…."
"Sweyn. My name is Sweyn. Come back by winter if you need more of the extender."
Hana thanked him and made for the door of the hall, weaving around other buyers and trying to remain unobtrusive. She had almost made it to the door when she heard catcalls, which she suspected were directed at her. Hana did her best to ignore them as she attempted to navigate her way around an obese man with four chins who was unknowingly blocking her exit. The man, his skin reddened from rosacea, chatted merrily with an acquaintance, oblivious to the woman trying to move politely past him. Hana was about to slip past him when the catcaller shouted behind her,
"Where are you headed in such a hurry? I'm talking to you, woman…"
Hana felt the anger inside her rising as she told herself, ignore him. Don't turn around, that is what he wants, just get out of here and get home.
The catcaller suddenly touched Hana on the shoulder. "Who are you? Where are you headed?"
He had long white and gray hair tied back in a rope like tail, thinning at the top, and like many in Vik, was missing several front teeth. He was of slight build but sinewy. The bustle of the hall continued, no one seemed to notice him bothering her. It was when he touched her that Hana turned and looked at him, but not before she pulled her hand from her cloak. She was wearing her hand claws, which attached round her palm and when flexed, released small but deadly sharp little blades into the victim.
"Listen, you bitch, I am talking to you!" He grabbed her arm, and in a flash Hana flung him off violently and kneed him in the lower abdomen.
"Touch me again and I will cut off your balls and burn them while you watch. It is none of your business who I am or where I am going. Try me, fool. I will do it right here." He cursed at her as he lay on the floor on his back, legs bent as a crab's. A few people were alerted to the situation only because he lay on the floor, watching Hana as she slipped her dagger into her belt and straightened her cloak.
"Is that bloke bothering you, miss?" asked the obese man. "If so, I'll see to him, don't need that kind 'round here…"
"He isn't anymore, but thanks," Hana said curtly. She turned on her heels and left the hall, quickly enveloped in the harsh, dry cold as she ventured in the direction of Eldfell. It would a long walk home, and Hana, though afraid of being followed, kept her knife in her hand the entire way.
Hana returned safely. More than two weeks later, Thorin was still gone. Hana spent her days mostly at work, but twice had ventured into town for ale at the tavern. She eavesdropped, hoping to pick up on information about Dwarves sighted in the area. She knew longer could mean he would return with good news, but it could also mean he and the others had run into danger. Between her worries, anxiety, and recurring dream of the stabbing the Warg, Hana had many a sleepless night. One evening Hana intermitted between tending a pot over the fire and mashing some fine powder with the pestle a few feet away. She could not hear any wind outside, so it put her nerves at ease, knowing the weather had not turned any nastier. More snow had melted since earlier in the day, when she ventured outside to see what small game she could scrounge up. There was not much to be had in the way of game. Hana's trip was not completely fruitless, she returned late in the afternoon with one emaciated wild turkey and two even scrawnier quails. They were now part of a stew, which was to be her dinner for the next two nights.
Warm, orange light filled the inside of the hut as she crushed the hemlock systematically. She would need a good smoke from her pipe soon. Hana worked quietly, sitting cross legged on the floor and became rather lost in thought when she heard a familiar, loud knock on her door. She got up, shook off the cramps in her feet from being in one position for too long, and walked cautiously toward it. She cocked her head slightly toward the door. She grabbed a knife from next to the fireplace and brandished it low, as a precaution. "Who's there?" Hana asked guardedly. She was expecting no one but Thorin, but at the night hour, asked anyway.
"It's me, Hana," he answered, sounding exhausted.
It was only when she recognized his voice that Hana opened the door.
Thorin's footsteps walked across the threshold like monoliths. His face wore the signs of exhaustion and disappointment. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He embraced her quickly, then dropped his knapsack next to the door, followed by his gloves. He stood still for a minute, looking down at the floor, his back turned partly toward her.
Hana deduced the meeting had not gone as planned. She tread lightly with her questions.
"Are you alright, Thorin?" She asked. He nodded silently.
"Did you meet with them, then?"
Thorin sighed. "Yes."
"And?"
"It did not go well. We will not be meeting again, at least not on….agreeable terms."
Hana hesitated before answering him. She touched his right arm. "I'm sorry."
Thorin turned around and faced her. He spoke incredulously. "There's nothing more that could have been done. They were the last of our kind in this part of the mountains. No matter. This will not be forgotten when we take back our home. I remember loyalty…and betrayal."
He turned and met her eyes, returning her touch, gently. He pulled Hana into another embrace, longer this time. His clothes were cold from being outside, she was warm and welcoming.
After they separated, Thorin noticed her feet were bare. It was fairly warm inside the hut, but frigid outside. "Why in blazes haven't you got your boots on? Have you been outside today?" He asked tiredly, a mixture of astonishment and scolding in his tone.
Hana felt put on the spot. She remembered her feet were uncovered. Not only that, but her hair was loose. She had not worn it loose around him since they first met. It made her self-conscious.
"Yes, I have been outside today. That's why we have supper on the fire. (She jerked her head in the direction of the pot to indicate it) My feet were sore." She spoke dismissively, wishing he would stop ogling her feet and relax.
He removed his cloak and hung it beside the door. Hana's loose, dark hair fell freely, cascading on her shoulders and around her face. Thorin was transfixed. Then his eyes traveled downwards as he saw she was wearing trousers and a loose, unbelted tunic. He could not take his eyes off of her tiny feet for a moment, toes stubby and round. Thorin could not recall seeing such small feet in a long time.
"I know, my feet are foul. Just don't look at them, please." She became frustrated as she tried to disguise her nerves, angry with herself for her untidy appearance. She had become lost in her work and simply forgot. Hana felt her face grow warm with embarrassment.
Thorin folded his arms in front of her, smiling slightly. "Never mind that. I have seen fouler." He managed a hint of a laugh as she scowled at him. "Wait 'til you see mine." Her scowl gave way to a smile back at him, glancing at his enormous feet, clad in his thick, massive boots with metal toes.
"Supper needs a bit longer. Come sit down a spell and relax." She took his icy cold hand and led him to her one and only chair, close to the center of the room. Thorin did not put up a fight. He eyed her warily.
"Now sit back."
He obeyed, and slumped a little. "Lean your head back. Just a bit, over the basin." She gently tilted his head back, her hand touching his beard for a second.
"What are you up to?," Thorin asked. He looked concerned, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
"Will you just be calm? I'm not going to kill you, Thorin, good heavens. Nothing weird, this is something I should have done before you left. Why do I always have to explain myself when I try to help you?" She carefully unbound his ponytail. Scoffing, she gingerly picked a couple of twigs out of his hair, then carefully separated two thin plaited coils, which had been tangled. Each was bound by a small silver clasp, minutely detailed.
"See? (Hana showed him the twigs in her palm). I'm going to wash it now. So sit back…settle down….(she whispered right up next to his ear)and don't talk." She poured some hot water into a basin and walked purposefully over to a wooden box she kept beside her tiny bed. Opening it, she pulled out a small bottle of a pearly yellow substance. She assumed her own spot, beside the basin, which she had placed on a stool. Very gently, she worked her fingers into Thorin's shock of hair to wetten it. The hair was so dense, her fingers were immersed up to the base, where her digits met her hand. She observed streaks of silvery gray embedded in the almost black locks of his hair. "If this hurts, I apologize. You have some nasty tangles in here."
Thorin let out a deep, satisfied sigh, and spoke to her as if in a trance. "You are not hurting me in the least."
Rhythmically, softly, she moved her hands through his mane, often trying to pick out the tangles and the occasional bit of leaf or grime. As he sat in the chair, Thorin gave the impression of being asleep, even though Hana knew he was not. She saw his hands grasp the side of the chair at first, then relax and hang. Once his hair was all wet, she dried her hands on her blouse and dropped a bit of the yellow substance in her hand. It smelled of rosemary and lavender. As he longed for the return of her hands to his head, he looked sidewise as he watched her work, mesmerized.
"What is that?" Thorin grumbled.
"It is a soap I mixed. I use it to wash my own hair." She thought better of telling him that after working it in, making a sour face at herself for saying too much. He breathed heavier as he felt Hana's small hands start near his forehead, making their way down to the ends tantalizingly, slowly. The leisurely pace she was going at tortured him and satisfied him at the same time, awakening something much deeper inside. She carefully rinsed it with cup fulls of warm water, and wrung it dry with a towel. His hair looked and smelled noticeably better. Hana leaned to his right and whispered in his ear softly, her hand on his shoulder, "Feel a little better, I hope?" She knelt next to his chair. "I told you I would not do anything weird."
Thorin did not answer, he sat up slowly, slumped out of the chair, and on his knees in front of her, head turned, kissed her without hesitation. It was his turn to take his time. Her face, healed mostly now from the injuries in the petty dwarf attack, was utterly possessed by his large hands. He sat on the floor, legs aside, as he held Hana close to him, shifted onto her knees. She was slightly above him, her hair draped over his face as his eyes were level with her neck. Their eyes met, as they released each other briefly. Thorin noticed the flecks of amber in her greenish brown eyes, alight as they reflected glow off the fire. "Now I do," he replied softly. He would not let go of her face for a good few minutes, making up for the time they had been apart. She pushed up against him, the freshly damp spots on her tunic pressing into his chest as their mouths coalesced into a cluster of heated flesh. Hana's arms were around his neck, her fingers in his hair again as his worked their way from her face down to her neck. His left arm firm around her waist, she slunk downward a bit, as his right hand ventured past her jaw, inching deliberately, gradually, into riskier territory. His fingertips felt her pumping blood pounding in her neck, as their hearts did, his heart a mallet, throbbing into her sternum. She moved her hands from his hair, caressing his face, fingering his beard, his crept down to her clavicle. Her legs slung off to the opposite side of his, until he pulled her closer, onto his lap. Thorin relished the touch of her bone under his thick fingers, the sensation of her mouth as it gave in to his tongue, gently pushing past her full lips. Hana tortured him further as her tongue responded to his and her fingers brushed against his beard, playfully touching the edge of his ear, the other holding his face. Her hand crept along his ear like the lazy crawl of a spider's legs. When they let go of each other long enough to come up for breath, both stared at each other for a few moments. The silence spoke volumes, their eyes boring into each other, bodies interrupted, both panting. The sharp pop of the pot over the fire jolted Hana back into the present, much to Thorin's frustration. She broke free from his arms and walked urgently to the fire. He swore inaudibly in Khuzdul under his breath.
"Oh no….I hope it isn't burned," she said, stirring the contents inside. She gave it an assessing, unsure glance. "Well, it looks edible, anyway," she said distractedly, before she removed it from the fire and set it on the hearth beside.
Thorin glanced lazily over at her, a look of satisfaction mixed with mild disappointment etched on his stern face. He smiled back at her. "I am sure it is, Hana," he said, looking at her longingly. After his long, discouraging journey, he should have been hungry for food, but it was not food he craved at that moment.