Chapter Text
January TA 2940
“Hold still.” She instructed, drawing a breath.
The skin had knit back beneath the crude black thread. No swelling, no seepage. With a careful hand, she cut each knot and drew the thread free, one by one. It had been a month since his injury, and she was more relieved than surprised that the wound had closed up so nicely, given the circumstances they were in.
Thorin remained still, only flinching when she finally pulled the end free. She wiped the drops of blood away with a wet cloth, half expecting him to insist on doing it himself.
But he gave no protest, simply watching her as she did her work.
“It’ll grow back,” she broke the silence. “I’ve had worse haircuts.”
He averted his gaze.
It took them two and a half days to return to the Greenway. Now that they were out of the woods and back on the path, Thorin had grown less tense, even suggesting that they set up camp earlier than usual. Jin Ae couldn’t think of a better time than then to remove his stitches.
“Does it really bother you? My hair?”
She threw the thread into the small hole she had dug, turning to wash her hands with the meltwater she had boiled and cooled. He didn’t answer her question, and instead thought on his words carefully, which was rare and enough to make her somewhat nervous.
“What you did for Tamrok, for his family, that was no small deed. Why did you do it?”
Even when he spoke softly, his voice was still deep, like a slow-burning ember, drawing her eyes away from her hands.
“Because it’s my job to help.” She watched the robins in the distance dance above the knot of boughs. The forest was slowly falling asleep with the dusk, which had painted the sky red, bathing them in an orange glow. “And because I can.”
“But we are not your kin.”
She thought of the people that heckled Freya, of bright, angry torches burning under the night sky. “ I took an oath to serve the people, regardless of who they are and where they are from.”
She stood, brushing the dirt off her pants. “And I will not stand by and do nothing when I know I can help.”
During slow, unhurried moments like these, when she had the time to sit back and observe her surroundings properly, Jin Ae would make a list of things she had missed. That day, she focused on the two braids at the front of his hair, making a mental note to ask him about it one of these days. She had seen him fix the twists with such care that it was almost out of place; she was not yet used to this side of him. She wanted to see more.
Finally, she thought of how beautiful he looked under the light. For a breath, she saw a shadow of his former self, briefly lit from within, and the ache in her chest began to stir. She didn’t know until when the very sight of him would be a continuous reminder of the stubborn bruise she tries very hard to conceal.
“You have honour, healer.”
There was no hardness in his eyes, only calm and something quietly kind.
“Don’t sound too surprised.” She smiled, catching the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.
A few days later, they decided to stop a few feet away from a frozen lake, not too close to the biting cold of the open water but close enough to make use of the thawed edges where the afternoon sun had softened the ice. The ground nearby was firmer, less exposed to the wind, and ringed with a few sparse trees that offered some shelter. It was where they were to take their lunch. so she sat by the bark of a tree and tore through her bread, eying the clear sky.
The lakeside laid quiet beneath the sun, and the stillness that surrounded her was broken only by the faint chirps of the small animals above the trees. Thorin had gone to hunt, bow and arrow in hand before disappearing behind a low thicket of branches, leaving her to watch how the snow sparkled where the light touched it, casting the world in a pale brightness that stung her eyes.
The wind was quiet for once, and even the trees stood still, as if lulled by the warmth. It made the cold easier to bear.
When she heard familiar footsteps, Jin Ae tilted her head to the side. “That was quick.”
He set aside his bow and lowered the pair of rabbits he had killed onto the ground, brows furrowed.
“Something wrong?”
“They were an easy catch.” He narrowed his eyes. “ Too easy.”
She took a closer look at the game, crouching to observe the dead animal. They were hares, she realised. Bigger, longer. They each sported a wound from where Thorin’s arrow shot them, but the one on the left had a rotting cut by its thigh.
Suddenly, the calm of the afternoon was gone, replaced by a heightened sense of awareness that the birds had stopped chirping. The forest is now too quiet.
Her eyes caught the foam by the edge of the hares’ mouth, and Jin Ae stuck an arm out across Thorin’s chest, as if to back him away.
“Look there. At the mouth.” She pointed. “These rabbits are sick. Where did you find them?”
He bristled at her urgent tone. “ Not far from here.”
“What were they doing when you saw them? Did they seem lethargic? Slow?”
The way his eyes widened was all the confirmation he needed. “The sickness, does it spread?”
“Not through touch, no. If it is what I think it is, it's unlikely to be transmitted from dead meat to humans. But something bit that hare and made it sick. And it must’ve bit its friend.” She straightened, already eyeing her pack. “Thorin, I don’t think it's safe here.”
He seemed to agree, hand already at the hilt of his sword, her words the final words he needed to confirm his suspicions. Something rustled in the bushes before them, and Jin Ae reacted to it before she could even register what it was, ducking away as Thorin raised his sword. The metal collided with its snout.
The beast gave an ugly snarl; its mouth pulled back to reveal foam clinging to its gums, frothing and thick. He stuck the end of his sword through its skull, the cracking of bones enough to make Jin Ae flinch.
Thorin pulled her upwards by the arm, onto her feet and nudged her towards the pony’s direction.
She worked to release the knot on its reigns as a cacophony of howls rang through the trees. The pony’s hooves stamped wildly against the frozen ground, nostrils flaring. Cursing, she fumbled with the straps and finished just as Thorin secured their packs on its back, and as they mounted, another wolf-like creature pounced into the clearing, barely missing the horse’s hind legs.
“What are they?” Jin Ae screamed, jerking her head down as they sped past the underbush.
“Wargs.” Thorin barked. “They’re not supposed to come this far down the mountains.”
A blur of grey streaked through the snow behind them, figures fast and low, slipping between trees like shadows. One darted forward, so near she could feel its breath at her heels, jaws snapping just short of flesh. Thorin swung his blade with one arm and slashed through its mouth, ripping a yelp from its throat before it collapsed with a thud.
She wrapped her arms around his chest to bring herself closer to him, afraid she might fall off the pony with the speed they were going.
“Head for the water but stay on the edges!” She instructed, yelling when another had lunged at them and missed.
“And have us drown and freeze to our deaths?” He hissed, sharply steering the pony away from a dead end.
“Just trust me !”
With a frustrated growl, Thorin did what was asked of him. And somewhere along the way, they had managed to gain a bit of distance, no doubt throwing the pack off course. But it was only a matter of time until the wargs caught their scents again, so Jin Ae explained her plan quickly.
"These wargs are sick, rabies, I think. We can use that to our advantage."
They reached the edge of the frozen lake, and to avoid the ice, the pony tossed its head, reins pulled taut as it danced sideways.
"Those filths have always been riddled with disease. It will make no difference." He argued, looking over his shoulder.
"This is different. Their movements were uncoordinated. Messy. They’re not thinking properly." A sharp howl cut through the air. " They will be afraid of the water, which is why I will lure them out into the ice."
"Don't be foolish." He warned. Yet she hopped off the animal, stumbling atop the ice.
Thorin made a move to grab her, but it was too late. The wargs had found them.
"Go!" Jin Ae shoved him. "Meet me on the other side !"
Just then, a set of jaws aimed for them, grazing Thorin as the horse galloped away. She leapt onto the lake and stuck both fingers into her mouth, whistling for the pack to follow her. Driven by sickness more than sense, most of the wargs wasted no time pouring out into the ice, lured by the promise of an easier target. A pair of them had split from the group and went after Thorin, but she wasn't too worried. He'd make quick work out of them.
She ran for the edge of the frozen lake. The shortest path to the far bank cut straight across, a narrow stretch of land barely visible through the glare of sunlit snow. But she wasn’t aiming for the far side alone.
The ice cracked faintly beneath her shoes, thin in the centre where the water never fully froze. She knew that. Counted on it.
Behind her, the pack surged, their wet, yellow teeth bared. Eyes red and angry. She didn’t look back and didn't need to. She could hear them, too many paws thundering across the ice.
If I could just make it across, she thought. If I could draw them far enough.
She veered slightly, not toward the straightest point, but toward the heart of the ice, where it gleamed dark and fragile. Just a little farther. She looked over her shoulder, hoping they'd follow. And then she heard it, a low, ominous echo that rumbled beneath her feet. There was a crack, followed by another before the sound spread in jagged lines across the frozen surface. It raced like a spiderweb towards the centre of the lake where the wolves charged, blind with frenzy. Jin Ae had leapt just in time, because as their paws landed, then came the snap, loud and final, as the ice gave way beneath them.
Yelps and snarls rang out as they splashed into the dark, frigid water, limbs thrashing in panic, claws scraping for purchase.
The lake swallowed them whole, and the echoes of their cries faded into the silence.
“Jin Ae!”
She whipped her head. Thorin was looking at her, eyes wide with panic. “Run!”
The cracks were migrating, heading towards her. She only had a small distance left to cross, so she sprinted, as steady as she could on the ice, heading for Thorin’s outstretched arm.
Just as her fingers were about to latch themselves onto his, the floor beneath her gave away, and Jin Ae found herself surrounded by water.
With a splash, the world turned quiet. Cold.
Dark blue engulfed her, and she immediately thought of Thorin. And for a fraction of a second, she also thought of someone else. Someone faraway from her.
An arm wrapped itself around her waist just as she was about to close her eyes, swimming upwards, carrying her weight. When they reached the surface, air forced itself painfully into her throat. A set of hands manoeuvred her, bracing her as she hunched on her knees, fire in her lungs as whatever remained of the water was emptied from them. And then she was being carried, lifted onto the pony.
She didn't know how long they rode for, but she knew she had to stay awake. So Jin Ae focused on the palm against her back and the arm under her knees, trying to even her breathing. He was saying something to her, but the ringing in her ears was too loud, and her head lolled itself to the side, right above his heartbeat, which she could feel pulsing against her skin.
After what felt like forever, they finally dismounted, ascending a flight of stairs. Thorin was trying to get her attention, shaking her lightly. His lips were moving and it took her a while to register what he was saying to her.
"Take off your clothes."
The cold had crept in unnoticed at first. Nipping at her fingers, tightening around her toes. But now, it had burrowed deep into her bones. Her hands, once shaking, had stilled.
Jin Ae fumbled with her coat, clumsy and slow. Her eyelids were beginning to droop, fingers stiff with numbness. So she looked at Thorin pleadingly.
For a fraction of a second, he stilled. But as if he understood what needed to be done, his hands rushed to undo the laces of her boots, tugging at them and her socks. Then he peeled off her coat, fingers grazing her belly as they lifted her shirt over her head. He retracted his hands when she wrapped her arms across her chest, moving to her pants instead, stripping her only to her bra and underwear. When she didn’t protest, he threw the clothes aside and got up.
Her heart dropped at the loss of contact, arms weakly reaching for him. Only when he returned to her side did Jin Ae sense the drowsiness trying to trick her, to lull her to sleep. She found it harder and harder to focus, and the strange calmness that threatened to overcome her grew more and more alluring each second.
Wood popped and shifted as the flames took hold. In front of her, the fire grew bolder, and if she lacked less sense than what remained now, she would have dived head-first into it.
A blanket was draped around her, followed by something heavier, and thicker. She felt like surrendering to the weight behind her eyes. But she couldn’t sleep. Not yet, not when the chill hasn't left her body.
As if reading her mind, she heard him moving, floorboards creaking followed by the rustling of clothes being shed.
He lifted the side of the blanket and slid himself between her and the wall, and when his skin touched hers, warm and almost burning, a low noise ripped itself out of her throat. She gave in, letting him move her, drawing heat from his touch. She basked in the rough calluses of his hands, the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back.
The effect was instantaneous; the shivering was starting to subdue, fading with the hands that were running up and down her shoulders.
She saw there was a cut along his open palm, long and thin, curling from his thumb and ending by the base of his wrist.
“ D-did they bite you?” She mustered.
“No,” he assured her. “ They didn’t.”
“ G-good.”
“You must stay awake,” he commanded, solid and steady, anchoring her to consciousness.
“Tell me about the B-blue mountains.”
He pulled her closer, chin ghosting above her head. “Ered Luin lies west of Eriador. Up in the mountains, where they fade blue with age. The bones of the mountains are old, but our forges still burn. The forests are enough for firewood, and the rivers always run clear. ”
She stared at the flames and tried to picture his words; a reclusive, dwarven kingdom resting behind snow-covered peaks, carrying cold, clean rivers that ran beneath the green pines.
“And what about Erebor?” She whispered.
For a second she was afraid she had said the wrong thing, for the silence that followed stretched for minutes, leaving her with the sound of the fire as it crackled.
“That, healer,” he sighed. A tired and heavy sound. “ Is the only place I’ll call home.”
He seemed to be thinking, unsure of where to start.
“The Lonely Mountain stands alone in the north of Rhovanion, to the east of Eryn Lasgalen and north of the Dalelands. Erebor was a fortress built deep within the mountain itself. It was the heart of my people.” There was pride in his voice. She could hear him smiling. “The halls of my fathers and forefathers used to echo with song, lit by gold and forge fire. We mined precious gems from the earth beneath, hewn from rock and in great seams of gold running like rivers through stone. I was born beneath those arches, below vaulted ceilings, carved by hand and hammer. A kingdom under the mountain, as grand as any ever built.”
That was the longest she’d heard him speak, and it was impossible to miss the homesickness in his voice.
“What happened to it?”
His fingers curled. “It was taken from us.”
“I’ve l-lived in so many different places that I don’t have one to call h-home,” she confessed, filling the silence. “I was born next to the sea, on an island called Jeju, the place where my dad — father, lived. But I left as a teenager to study out of the country. Where I continued to practice. I rarely went to see h-him. ”
Warmth and feeling were starting to return to her cheeks, and Jin Ae tentatively moved her fingers, starting with her pinky, relieved to see that all ten of them were beginning to regain some form of movement. Her teeth had also stopped chattering, so she continued, voice raspy from all the coughing earlier.
“ But that night in the Dunlands, the morning before, was the first time in almost a decade that I came to visit. And I was on my way back from a hike to the temple when I ended up here. I have no idea how that happened.”
“Why were you there?”
She cast her eyes down. “ I had just lost someone special to me. He was, in a way, my home.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” And she could tell he was, judging from the quietness of his voice.
Now that she was more conscious, Jin Ae began to observe her surroundings. They were in a damp room that smelled of old wood and dust, accompanied by a dilapidated ceiling and missing floorboards. The sun was halfway gone, the last rays of light, descending on the door across them. He must have broken a nearby chair to start a fire, her lighter lying nearby, along with their clothes that were drying.
He shifted behind her, his bare thighs moving across hers. Flushing, Jin Ae was now very aware of how naked they both were. But he looked like he had no plans to leave, ears vigilant and tilted towards the window. So they sat in silence for a while, no words exchanged between them, with just the sound of their breathing mingling in the empty space.
“First, we heard a noise like a hurricane coming down from the North,” Thorin spoke. “It was a fire-drake. Smaug had come. I was there when he laid waste to the city of Dale and when he broke through the doors of Erebor.”
She listened to his story, watching the way his eyes turned into different shades of anger and grief. He told her about the great wealth that flooded the tunnels of his kingdom, about the Arkenstone and his grandfather, and of the fire that devoured everything in its path. He spared her the details of what happened after, and she understood. There was no use in reopening old wounds. And if she asked, she asked little, and he answered even less.
When he finished, it must have been past midnight. Dawn would break in a few hours, and by this point, most of the cold had disappeared, replaced by a low warmth steadily building beneath her skin. Gone was the danger of sleeping.
Pressed close, she heard him speak not through her ears but through the steady thrum in his ribs. So she allowed herself to drift, savouring the heat trapped under the pile of blankets and his coat. His chin against her temple, the last thing she felt before succumbing.
She dreamt of dragon fire, of dark, red wings blocking out the sun before swooping down to cut the trees. And in the aftermath, she wandered through the empty halls like a ghost, descending flights of broken stairs, the marble cold and hard against the underside of her foot.
Someone was with her, holding her hand, their fingers intertwined. The warmth felt real, heavy with weight, and she would recognise those callouses even with her eyes closed. Yet these hands felt rougher, marred with scars and hard lines.
Then she heard it. Faint at first, coming from her left. It was the sound of a cardiac monitor, the electronic noise foreign and out of place. It beeped steadily, once, twice, before dropping into a flatline, ringing noisily down the empty, marbled chambers.
When she woke with a jerk, the fire before her had been put out, smoke wafting from the pile of black ash. She lifted herself upright, away from the wooden wall, where the blankets had slipped down her shoulder, exposing the patch of skin to the morning chill.
The sky outside was purple, early and just waking.
Thorin watched her from the other side of the room, already dressed in his coat. He placed her thermos next to her before heading for the doorway, sword in hand. He gave her one last look, expression bent with worry. But there was something else in his eyes, something sad, like when he spoke of Erebor — when he spoke of loss.
He closed the door behind him, and Jin Ae clenched and unclenched her fingers slowly; the warmth in her hand, real and fading, clinging to her skin like an afterthought.
They didn’t talk about last night. By the time he came back from patrolling the area and feeding the pony, she was already dressed, clothes dry if not a little damp. He didn’t bring it up and neither did she, so Jin Ae tried her best to look him in the eye normally as if they hadn’t spent the entire night spooning. Great.
Her movements were still slow and unsure, but Thorin was patient, helping her down the stairs. His gloved hand, a steady weight against her fingers.
As they descended, her eyes roamed around the abandoned house, watching the withered vines from outside push their way past the windows to crawl all over the walls. She observed that there was still bedding and curtain strewn around and silverware riddled with cobwebs resting atop the table.
Once they were on their way again, slowly because of all the undergrowth and fallen trees, she noticed several more empty houses haunting the area, slouched against the wind, their shutters long torn off, their doors hanging crooked on rusted hinges, close to being devoured by the forest.
“It is more likely the people of this settlement fled their homes than were driven out,” he said, as if hearing her thoughts. “Otherwise, we would see signs of it.”
“They left in a hurry,” she murmured, warily looking over her shoulder. The road behind them was half-shrouded by tall, brittle grass that had pushed through the cracks. And frost clung to the overgrowth in messy patches.
“The creatures that dwell upon the mountain have grown bolder,” he said, unease creeping into his voice. “ These folks were smart to head North. Farmers have no means to defend themselves against wargs.”
“What were they?” She shuddered, recalling their escape. “ They looked like wolves, but bigger.”
“They are worse than wolves, foul by nature. We were lucky. Wargs seldom go unaccompanied by Orcs,” he frowned. She sensed he was only this calm because they had covered a great distance yesterday.
“Orcs?”
“Filth bred for war,” he spat—venom in his words. “ Orcs have long since taken to riding wargs. The two are known to hunt together. Often, if you see one, the other is not far behind.”
“The ones we encountered were sick, so their riders probably set them free knowing that they were dying.” She theorised.
“How can you tell?”
“Assuming I’m right, they’re infected with rabies. It’s a virus, think of it as a type of poison that takes root in the blood. Once it spreads throughout the bloodstream and into the nerves, it attacks the brain and damages it.” Her eyes flickered to his hand, relieved at the sight of the small wound already closing. “ And it spreads through the saliva. Through bite.”
“ How did you predict they would fear the water?” He asked.“ A healthy pack would have leapt out and continued the chase. I watched them writhe and sink. What told you this?”
“ They were behaving strangely, both the hares and wargs. Animals with the disease either appear less alert or aggressive. And it's not that they fear water, but rather they are afraid of swallowing. The parts of the brain infected by rabies are the same ones controlling the motor functions for the muscles around the mouth and neck, making it painful for them to drink or swallow, hence they associate that with the fear of choking on water.”
He didn’t bother to hide his expression, and Jin Ae hated the way her chest lifted, like she wanted to preen at the barest hint of awe in his voice.
“Your knowledge is extensive,” he praised, voice shifting into something more serious. “What you did was reckless. If you were further away I would not have reached you.”
Her gaze faltered.
“But it was very brave.”
The sunrays skimmed the crown of his head, and from this angle, if she looked down she could see the strands of white sticking out of his forehead — silver like snow.
A smile forced its way to her face.
“How did you get the cut in your hand?” She asked.
He glanced down. “ It is nothing.”
“It’s not nothing if it’s enough to cut through a dwarf.”
Sensing she wasn’t going to drop the question, he turned his head sideways, looking at her but not quite.
“ It was the ice.”
She thought back to the feel of his arm around her waist, how the ice must have broken unevenly, sharp ridges jutting like glass.
“ Oh.”
They crossed a small stream, the border of what she could only assume was once a village, filled with life, laughter and song. Now reduced to nothing but an empty landscape of wild grass and snow.
“Thank you,” she uttered softly, suddenly feeling breathless.
He smiled. And suddenly, it felt like the sun was right above her, shrouding them in warm light.