Chapter Text
the coldfront was coming sooner than you expected. you should’ve cut your losses and stayed in the last town but it was far too late to try to return. all you had was the exceedingly heavy pack on your back, full of everything you owned and a skein of water on your side, enough to last you a day or two at most.
you've been traveling for longer than you would like to admit. scared to slow or settle down for too long, your family hadn’t been pleased by how you left (like a thief in the night). you breathe meager heat into your hands and sigh, wincing as your ribs throb in response (you'd slept on too many threadbare pallets). to travel safely, your plan was to appear as a man, under your too big clothing and sunhat was your amulet, magically imbued and subduing your own spiritual pressure to uphold the magical deceit.
the snow was up to your knees by the time the outline of a shabby house appeared on the twilight horizon, nearly sagging with relief you hastened your speed, and soon enough you were upon the truthfully pitiful stone abode.
though, any shelter was better than braving the steadily brewing storm. after checking out the meager rooms and what seemed to be a small supply closet, you finally took stock. a fireplace, with an old pot, some old rice that seemed edible in the dark light of the rising moon, as well as a decent bedroll, although moths had gotten to it and it smelled dank and musty.
it was… tidy but clearly abandoned. surely, whoever lived here before wouldn’t mind a little company. you survey the home, the supply closet you came from was behind you, you can see the door, as well as what seems to be a kitchen area (the fireplace was there, after all) connected to what looked to be a sitting room. it really was a miracle that vermin didn't get to the rice before you did, but you were never one to question a blessing.
with a resolved sigh, you set your things down near the fireplace but still in the open area of what you designated the sitting room and decided to try and find some wood in the back of the storage closet, as well as snow for the pot to heat up so you can take a bath, maybe even cook some of the precious rice.
a bit later, the room was significantly warmer with a fire and you had finished taking a dreadfully cold bath with a bucket left in the semi kitchen. you were considering taking off your ratty clothing and washing them when the door to the shabby home started to rattle, very different from the wind that had been beating the walls down earlier. no, someone was on the other side.
scrambling, you grab your shirt and pull it over your head, along with putting your thinner pants back on. while you were on your hands and knees- the unyielding stone floor biting into your flesh- the door swung open, smacking against the inside of the house with a deafening clap. the breath caught in your throat, your hand so close, but too far from the sword you used to defend yourself. however... from the looks of it, whoever this person was wouldn't be impacted by your weapon.
he was huge, bigger than any man should be, and he also wore a heavy coat. he ducked low to enter, his orange eyes burning into you- the rest of his face covered by a wooden helmet. your eyes stared back.
he moved, you did not, too scared to avert your eyes you watched him as he calmly and slowly closed the door firmly behind himself and again you two stared at each other.
he speaks first, voice deep, you know that if you were closer it would shake you.
“forgive my intrusion, sir. but i would’ve caught my death out there.”
you nearly melt in relief, he thought you were a man. good. clearing your throat you sit up, crossing your legs casually, “it’s nothing. can’t have you dyin’ on my front step.” your voice is hoarse, unused since you left the village- it wasn’t like you got frequent conversation.
covered in rapidly melting snow, the man started to disrobe and you came to your senses, “oh, my goodness. sorry, you can hang your clothes up by the fire.”
he nodded, his back to you as he stripped wet layer after wet layer. and you averted your eyes, busying yourself with the rice. fortunately, you had food from the previous town you visited.
“where did you come from, stranger?” you asked, trying to get a feel for who he was, or what kind of person would travel during a blizzard. aside from you, the runaway.
“.. i came from far south for a job.” he grunts, you could tell he was tolerating you, unless he just sounded like that all the time. considering the weather, you would find out soon enough. now shirtless and in his breeches, you could see the glory of his scarred, muscular yet padded body- it was clear he was strong, those muscles were well supported by his fat.
he could eat you alive, it looked like. his face (what could be visible through the wooden helmet, anyway), was stern; or at least his eyebrows were, eyes intense as you had seen earlier and his long lustrous hair was paler than the beams of moonlight, like the darkness herself had hand spun every near luminous strand. the hair was gathered in a low bun, to keep it out of his way. you half watched him as he hung up his humongous clothing on the lines of string you set up earlier for your own clothing.
the silence was heavy, but he speaks again, catching eyes with you. he’d caught you ogling his body and seemed amused, if you were reading the look in his eyes correctly- but more often than not you were terrible at telling what people where thinking even when they said it outright.
“sorry- it’s just, you have so many scars.” you almost reluctantly drag your gaze back to the pot, the rice is almost ready. while you were looking around for bowls you froze, your eyes on the larger than life sword laid against the wall in front of you.
his mammoth size already dwarfed you, but between him, the blazing heat of the fireplace, and this truly terrifying weapon, you freeze. trying to think, trying to process.
“worry not. that sword hasn’t been unsealed in many years, now.” he reassures you, still slowly, languidly, hanging up his clothing, you glance over at him and his eyes were earnestly on his work.
“right… sorry for staring. the rice will be done soon, if you’d like some.” on a second look at the sword, sure enough it was tied intricately so it couldn't be opened. what kind of man would willingly do something so foolish? it wasn’t like he needed a sword to kill or do genuine harm, you've seen his muscles. you have two wooden bowls, and a variety of eating utensils, so you give him the bigger one.
he sits close to you, mostly because he had no other option, given the exceedingly small dwelling. even sat, he towered over you as you spooned him in a bowl of rice, the bowl that was too large to you was practically normal in his massive hands. he nods his head slightly in thanks,
“thank you for this meal, you didn’t have to share.”
you laugh, a little surprised, “i can’t imagine not sharing, you should eat until you’re full.” he was… amicable, all things considered.
dinner is quiet, you had your back turned to him, facing the fire to give him the leeway to eat with his helmet off. after dinner, you had two bowls, he had four (though he could probably eat more), you were starting to feel tired.
getting up you held up the bedroll. it was too big for you but not big enough for him. “well, if we lay it out the long way you should be able to fit most of your body onto this, huh?”
he huffed out what seemed to be a laugh. “i carry my own bedroll, thank you.”
you glanced over at his things, seems being huge had its perks because he could carry way more than you did.
“plus, that thing is musty, and there's no room for us both to have a bedroll, so you can just sleep on mine. call it paying it forward on your kindness toward me.”
after everything was settled, your clothes were hanging- still damp, his were sopping wet. his surprisingly luxurious bedroll covered most of the space sans for the entrance area and the door. which you used the old bedroll to block the air from the bottom, just to keep you warm while the fired died down.
“thanks, i appreciate it… do you have something i can call you?” your back is to him as you pretend to situate your bag. your traitorous shortsword was in the bag, available for you to grab since you decided to use your bag as a pillow.
“jin is fine. and yours?”
“people usually call me sparrow,” you reply, a bit evasively, the people in the last few towns seemed to name you on your own, and that was fine by you.
he pauses in a way that seems thoughtful. “nice to meet you, sparrow. looks like we’re going to be in each other's company for a while.”
“i hope you’re not disappointed in my conversation, i don't have much to offer.” you confide, your wet boots were by the fire and dry socks on your feet, you weren’t stripping anymore than necessary due to the fact it was freezing outside.
“not an issue…” he pauses before speaking again, “you came from the town back east.” a statement more than a question.
you turn to look at him, his voice too close. he was too close, but this pitiful shack was too small!!
“no! i mean, kind of, but i came from back that way.” you point vaguely with your thumb the way you came.
you lay on your back, trying to ignore the hulking man in your peripheral, “you're a traveler as well,” you start, testing the waters.
he gives a noise of agreement, “something like that, and it seems you're the same.”
“and… do you have a destination?” you clenched your hand on your side furthest away from him. what were you doing?? if he was with you all the time, he would surely find out your secrets. however… he seemed kind enough maybe one of those secrets could protect you. he started talking midway through your internal monologue.
“.. so no i don't really. in fact i was thinking of heading west to the mountain towns,”
“could we travel together?” you sit up too quickly, hurting your pride further in the process. too eager.
“i mean, i could handle the food and you could handle the security?”
you resisted the urge to wilt, not being able to see his eyes in the dying light of the fire made him seem even more imposing, but with the lack of light was also the loss of heat. and jin had plenty to spare.
still, his voice was light, “sure,” his deep voice really did shake you and you swallowed down the butterflies in your throat, praying he couldn't tell how much you were being affected.
“we have plenty of time to discuss these terms, goodnight jin.”
wanting to avoid further questioning you laid down on your side, your back to the stranger, and soon enough you were asleep.