Mizuki soon returned to her human form, the towering might of her kaiju body shrinking into the lithe frame of a woman draped in shadows. Her iridescent scales faded into pale, smooth skin, but faint streaks of shimmering teal lingered along her forearms like a haunting memory of the sea. She exhaled sharply, the sound laden with exhaustion, as she swiped at the blood streaking her cheek. The dark, viscous substance mixed with dirt clung stubbornly to her skin, and she grimaced as the metallic tang of it lingered on her tongue, sharp and bitter as saltwater.

"Bloody bastards," she muttered under her breath, her voice low and edged with venom. Her fingers trembled for a moment before curling into fists. Her glowing eyes flickered, the faint remnants of her bioluminescence burning in the dark like coals under ash, a warning to anyone foolish enough to linger in her path.

"And where have you been, Master Mizuki?"

The voice was deep, clipped with frustration, and yet carried that ever-present regal weight Thorin seemed to wield like a weapon. Mizuki paused, mid-step, her bare feet sinking slightly into the wet earth beneath her. The question lingered in the air, and the faint rustle of leaves around them only made the silence sharper. Slowly, she turned, her movements unhurried, purposeful, like a predator deciding whether or not its prey was worth the chase.

Her hair, dark and still damp from seawater, clung to her neck in thin, tangled strands that shimmered faintly under the fractured sunlight filtering through the trees. Streaks of blood ran down the side of her face, painting her pale skin in dark crimson, like veins of ruby embedded in marble. Her lips curled into a faint, almost amused smile, though her crimson eyes glowed faintly, their hue clashing starkly against the icy blue of Thorin's unyielding gaze.

The two of them stood like opposing forces in the clearing—Thorin, stoic and unflinching in his heavy cloak, the silver trim catching the light; Mizuki, wild and untamed, a faint shimmer of teal still flickering over her forearms as if her kaiju form hadn't quite settled.

She raised a hand, lazily brushing away the clot of blood clinging to her chin. The motion left a faint smear across her skin, the dark red contrasting against the faint sheen of her bioluminescent scars. Blood dripped from her fingertips, falling into the dirt with a soft patter, forming tiny pools that sank into the thirsty earth.

"I'm cooking," she said at last, her voice soft but carrying a dangerous edge, as if the words themselves were sharpened. With an almost theatrical nonchalance, she lifted her arm and revealed her trophy—the severed head of a wild boar, its thick fur matted with blood. Its lifeless eyes stared into the void, and the faint glint of its tusks caught the light, the sharp edges stained a dull red. A thin stream of blood still trickled from its open neck, winding its way down Mizuki's wrist and pooling at her elbow before dripping lazily to the ground.

Thorin's expression didn't falter, but his jaw tightened imperceptibly, a slight shift that didn't escape Mizuki's notice. She tilted her head, letting her dark, tangled hair fall over one shoulder as her smile grew wider—sharp and knowing, like a blade unsheathed.

"Care to join me for dinner?" she asked, her tone deceptively light, though the gleam in her eyes was anything but innocent. The severed head swung slightly in her grip, the movement punctuating her words as if daring him to refuse.

Thorin grunted, his icy gaze flicking momentarily from the boar's lifeless head to her bloodied face. His broad shoulders shifted as he crossed his arms, the leather of his bracers creaking softly in the still air.

"Fili and Kili want you by the ponies," he muttered, his voice low, rough, and tinged with that ever-present impatience.

For a moment, Mizuki didn't move, her crimson eyes narrowing just slightly, as if weighing whether the request was worth her time. The faint drip of blood from the boar's head continued to punctuate the silence between them. She finally exhaled, a soft huff that was half amusement, half exasperation.

"Of course they do," she replied dryly, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. Her gaze lingered on Thorin for a heartbeat longer, crimson and blue locked like fire and ice, before she turned on her heel.

The wild boar's head swayed in her grip as she walked away, each step deliberate, her bare feet pressing softly into the damp earth. Thorin watched her go, his brows furrowing slightly as the faint shimmer of teal along her forearms glinted in the fading light, a reminder of her dual nature. He shook his head, muttering something inaudible, before turning back toward the campfire.

Behind him, Mizuki's voice drifted over her shoulder, playful and sharp. "Tell them not to whine when they see what's for supper."

SCENEBREAK

Mizuki arrived at the edge of the clearing where Fili and Kili stood, both brothers tending to the restless ponies. The younger one, Kili, was leaning casually against a tree, his dark hair loose around his shoulders, while Fili busied himself tightening the straps on a saddle. The ponies snorted and shuffled as Mizuki approached, their instincts twitching uneasily at her presence.

"Hey, Mizi!" Kili called out, his grin wide and boyish, his sharp eyes gleaming with mischief. Fili glanced up, his own smile softer but no less warm. The two brothers looked her up and down, their gazes lingering on the bloodied boar's head dangling from her hand.

"Care to tell us a story?" Fili asked, his voice full of easy charm, as he straightened and wiped his hands on his tunic.

Kili leaned closer, his grin growing wider. "Something about whatever poor soul that thing used to belong to?" He nodded toward the boar's head, his tone half-teasing, half-curious.

Mizuki arched a brow, her crimson eyes glinting faintly in the fading light. She set the boar's head down with a heavy thud, the motion deliberate, and crossed her arms.

"A story, hmm?" she said, her voice low and laced with a faint edge of amusement. She tilted her head, letting her tangled hair fall over one shoulder as she eyed the brothers.

"You two always begging for tales like pups at a fire," she continued, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You're lucky I'm feeling generous today."

Kili clapped his hands together, his excitement bubbling over. "We'll take anything, as long as it's good!"

Fili, always the more observant of the two, gave her a pointed look. "And maybe something without a bloody ending this time?"

Mizuki chuckled softly, the sound rolling like distant thunder. She lowered herself to sit on a nearby rock, her presence commanding even in rest, and brushed a streak of blood from her forearm.

"All right, boys," she said at last, leaning forward slightly, her crimson eyes gleaming as the faintest smile played on her lips. "But don't complain if you can't sleep tonight. You asked for this."

Both brothers leaned in, eager and wide-eyed, as Mizuki began to weave her tale, her voice low and steady, carrying the weight of storms and secrets from the depths.

SCENEBREAK

The fire crackled softly, its embers glowing against the encroaching darkness. The soft snores of Fili and Kili, sprawled against the roots of a nearby tree like cubs after a feast, blended with the quiet rustle of the night. Mizuki sat still for a moment longer, her eyes fixed on the flickering flames, her mind elsewhere, wandering as it often did in the quiet hours.

Another shriek tore through the night, distant yet sharp, like steel dragged against stone. The sound rippled through the camp, stirring the ponies and cutting through the muffled breathing of the sleeping company. Mizuki let out a long, quiet sigh and rose to her feet, her movements deliberate, the faint shimmer of her bioluminescent scars catching the firelight.

Balin, seated nearby with his back against a log, looked up groggily, his old eyes squinting at her figure as she stood silhouetted against the trees. "Another restless night, eh, lass?" he muttered, his voice low and gravelly.

Across the fire, Gandalf shifted in his seat, the long shadow of his staff falling across the ground as he turned his sharp gaze on her. "Where are you going, my lady?" he asked, his voice calm but probing, as though he already suspected her answer.

Mizuki paused for a moment, her eyes catching Gandalf's. The firelight danced in her crimson irises, casting them in a molten glow. She brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and looked toward the distant darkness, her expression unreadable.

"Just a walk," she said softly, though the weight in her voice suggested otherwise. "The night is restless, and so am I."

Gandalf studied her for a long moment, his piercing gaze seemingly reaching beyond what she had said. His fingers tightened slightly on the gnarled wood of his staff, but he did not stop her. Instead, he gave a slight nod.

"Be careful," he said simply, his tone quieter now, though not without a touch of concern.

Mizuki didn't reply. She turned and stepped away from the firelight, her silhouette melting into the shadows of the trees. The faint shimmer of her bioluminescence flickered once, like a ghostly wisp in the dark, before disappearing completely.

Balin let out a quiet grunt and shifted in his seat. "Strange one, that," he muttered to Gandalf, scratching at his beard.

Gandalf kept his gaze fixed on where Mizuki had disappeared, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Strange, yes," he murmured, almost to himself. "And far more than she appears."

SCENEBREAK

The soft trickle of the spring was a soothing melody in the stillness of the forest. Mizuki crouched by the water's edge, her fingers brushing against the cool surface as it rippled gently under her touch. She leaned forward, dipping her hands into the clear stream before bringing the refreshing water to her lips. It tasted crisp and clean, a sharp contrast to the bitter tang of blood that still lingered faintly on her tongue.

For a moment, she let herself settle, her senses expanding outward into the night. She felt the faint hum of the earth beneath her, the distant rustling of the leaves, and the gentle murmur of the spring as it wound its way through the underbrush. But then, amidst the quiet, she felt it—a presence nearby, steady and deliberate, not asleep like the others.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she exhaled softly through her nose. "Of course," she muttered to herself, lifting her head slightly and tilting her ears toward the sound of approaching footsteps. She didn't need to look to know who it was.

When Thorin emerged from the shadows, his form silhouetted by the faint light of the moon filtering through the trees, Mizuki sighed and straightened, brushing stray droplets of water from her hands onto her tunic. She didn't rise to her feet but remained crouched by the spring, her crimson eyes lifting to meet his cold blue ones.

"What can I do for you, my king?" she asked, her voice soft but edged with that faint, sardonic bite she always seemed to carry when addressing him. The title felt both formal and teasing as it rolled off her tongue, her tone walking the fine line between respect and irreverence.

Thorin regarded her in silence for a moment, his gaze steady and piercing as it swept over her. His expression was inscrutable, as it so often was, but there was a weight in his eyes that spoke of more than mere curiosity.

"You left the camp," he said simply, his deep voice carrying a hint of reproach, though it wasn't harsh.

"I did," Mizuki replied, turning her attention back to the stream as though his presence didn't unsettle her in the slightest. "The night called, and I answered." She reached down and brushed her fingers through the water again, letting it ripple around her touch. "What of it?"

Thorin stepped closer, the soft crunch of his boots on the earth breaking the stillness. "You've been restless," he said, his tone shifting slightly, as if testing the waters of the conversation. "And I don't believe you came out here simply for a drink."

Mizuki smirked faintly, her gaze flicking back to him. "And yet here you are, seeking answers to questions you already know the answers to."

The tension between them lingered, unspoken words swirling in the cool night air. Then, with a faint sigh, Mizuki stood, her movements fluid and deliberate. The faint shimmer of her bioluminescent scars caught the moonlight as she turned fully to face him, her expression softening just slightly.

"Tell me, Thorin," she said quietly, the sharp edge in her voice giving way to something more genuine. "What do you want from me tonight?"

Thorin stepped closer, his heavy boots pressing into the damp earth as he moved toward her. Without a word, he lowered himself to sit beside her on the smooth, cool rock by the spring. His presence was steady, solid, the weight of his mantle as king seeming to hang in the air around him. For a moment, he didn't speak, letting the quiet sounds of the forest fill the space between them—the bubbling of the water, the rustle of the breeze in the trees, the faint chirping of crickets in the distance.

Mizuki cast him a sidelong glance, her crimson eyes flickering in the pale moonlight. She waited, curious but guarded, as always, for what he might say.

At last, Thorin broke the silence. "I want to get to know you," he said, his deep voice unusually soft, though it carried the weight of sincerity.

The words lingered in the air, hanging between them like something fragile and unspoken. Mizuki blinked, caught off guard for a brief moment, before her lips curled into a faint smile. It wasn't her usual smirk, edged with teasing or sarcasm, but something quieter, more thoughtful.

"To know me?" she repeated, turning her gaze back to the spring. Her fingers brushed absently against the surface of the water, sending ripples outward. "That's a dangerous thing to ask, Thorin Oakenshield."

Thorin's sharp blue eyes didn't waver, locked on her as though searching for something hidden beneath her calm exterior. "I'm no stranger to danger," he replied simply, his tone steady.

Mizuki chuckled softly at that, the sound low and rich, like the distant rumble of thunder. "No, I suppose you're not." She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied the reflection of the moon on the water's surface. For all her strength, there was a flicker of something vulnerable in her expression, a shadow that passed as quickly as it came.

"You want to know me," she said finally, her voice quieter now, almost reflective. She straightened, tilting her head to look at him fully. "Then tell me this, Thorin. Why?"

The question wasn't accusatory, but it carried a weight, as though she were testing the depth of his intentions. Her crimson eyes locked with his, fire meeting ice once again in the cool light of the night.

Mizuki sighed softly, her gaze drifting to the dark forest beyond the spring. "I can assure you, I'm not a very interesting character," she said, her voice tinged with a faint weariness. She inhaled through her nose, a deep, deliberate breath, her senses sharp even in her human form. "Well," she added with a small, wry smile, "as good as a human could sniff without stirring."

Thorin didn't look away, his sharp blue eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone skeptical but not unkind. "Because I saw you kill those orcs. You aren't natural. You're not even human."

Mizuki's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile, and for a moment, the faint shimmer of her bioluminescent scars caught the moonlight. "I am a god," she said simply, the words rolling off her tongue with quiet certainty. "And I'm joining you on this mission because I want what is best for your people."

Thorin blinked, clearly taken aback, but his gaze didn't waver. "And how would you know what's best for my people?" he asked, his voice low and steady, though his skepticism was plain.

"I don't know," Mizuki admitted, her crimson eyes softening as she looked at him. "I just do what my heart tells me. And your people need to get your mountain back." She paused, her voice growing quieter, more measured. "Still, if this doesn't work out, you have to remember—you still have a home in the Blue Mountains, Thorin. What Balin said in the House of Baggins was right. That life you've built there, it's worth more than all the gold in Erebor. Trust me."

Thorin's jaw tightened slightly, his expression unreadable as her words sank in. Before he could respond, Mizuki dipped her head, a gesture of quiet finality, and turned away. Her steps were light and purposeful as she made her way back toward the camp, the faint shimmer of her scars fading into the shadows.

When she returned, the camp was quiet save for the crackling of the fire and the occasional soft snore from the company. She settled down on her makeshift mattress, pulling her cloak around her as she prepared to rest.

From the other side of the fire, Gandalf stirred, his piercing eyes glinting in the low light. "You talked to him, then," he said, his tone neither accusatory nor surprised. "Did you tell him about your true nature?"

"A bit," Mizuki replied, her voice muffled as she adjusted her cloak and rested her head against her makeshift pillow. "I told him I'm a god."

Gandalf huffed softly, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "Well," he said, his voice laced with dry amusement, "it's not far from the truth."

Mizuki closed her eyes, a faint smile playing on her lips. "But I'm something far more dangerous than a god," she finished for him, her voice barely above a whisper.

Gandalf's eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, his expression thoughtful, but he didn't press further.

"Just sleep," Mizuki murmured, her voice soft and steady. "We'll talk about this later."

With that, she turned on her side, pulling her cloak closer around her as her breathing slowed. The faint light of the fire danced over her peaceful face as she drifted off, leaving the wizard to his thoughts and the quiet watch of the night.