Okay, this is the first story I've written in a very long time so the flow may be rough. But there are just some characters that you really want to read about and I haven't seen a great deal of stories dealing with this one. Which is silly because he is adorable.
Disclaimer of not owning any of the characters or settings below, nor having any claim to The Hobbit at all. I am just borrowing with intention to return...eventually.
Ori shivered in the dark, his bare skin too susceptible to the cool of the night, his small form too used to the furnace heats of dwarven forges and even warmer dwarven bodies. The remains of his outer garments strewn around the room from where it had been thrown by the men, bruises marking the length of his arms and chest from where they had grabbed him, held him down, and then –
It was his own fault that he had wandered away from the inn where their small group had planned to gather. But Dori and Nori had been busy and he had so wanted to see the markets of the town. Usually he would wait for one of their company to join him (Kili and Fili were willing anytime and Bombur always needed new provisions) but this time the three brothers had arrived first and alone.
Ori had hesitated a bit between sneaking out and waiting, but he was a grown dwarf with a beard of his own (nearly) and could take care of himself.
Except not.
He hadn't expected it. While looking at one stall full of beautiful quills and inks, bound books in elegant scripts, and delicately embossed paper, he had felt a large shape approach from behind. The man was huge and reminded him of Dwalin, but only in shape. There was coldness in the man's smile when he greeted the small dwarf that made Ori wary and, with a nervous smile of farewell to the stall owner (who had looked worried herself), he clutched his purchases to his chest and started to return to the inn.
The man's friends had been waiting for him, grabbing from the shadows of a nearby building and pulling him away from the street, his items falling to the street. Hands over his arms, his legs, his mouth, and Ori could not catch his breath to utter a single cry.
Trying to hold back the whimpers, trying not to wake the men, Ori longed for his kin. To be held in Dori's wide embrace, gently shook as he made another misstep or mistook, and to have Nori's loud jovial voice warm and welcome him again.
The men's jeers echoed long in his head even after they themselves had fallen silent.
They had carried him like a sack to a room, throwing him down on a bed, and then stood over him leering. And like the child he was oft treated as, all Ori could do was lie there and tremble.
"Pretty one, ain't you? I've heard that female dwarves have beards as well as the men, so are you a lass or a lad?"
"Sstop! Let me go!"
"Must be a lass, too pretty to be otherwise. Look at it, hardly a beard at all."
Futility pushing at the forms around him as they lowered themselves, coming closer and closer, like darkness falling down on him.
"Instead of guessing, me lads, let's just see for ourselves."
Then they stripped him, bared him and found him male, their laughter had doubled and so had the insults. And the touches.
Ori knelt up as much as he could, small hands tugging at the thick ropes that bound his wrists together. At each movement in the dark he stopped and waited until it passed, and then carried on with the slow unwind. He didn't know what they intended for him, but he was not a youngling that would sit and wait for rescue. He had shamed his family enough; he would do so no longer. He pushed away his fears and the darker thoughts, focusing on what he must do,
Hours must have passed, it certainly felt so to him, but he finally felt the knot unravel enough and he was able to slip his hands free. Even in the dim light from the window the marks left behind were dark and bloody.
Gently, gently he slipped from the bed and to the ground. He crept along, the door an impossible length away, for each movement made the hurts worse.
He finally reached it and, filled with the hope of escape, became careless. He stood and reached up, the handle moved, the door creaked open.
"And where are you going, little mouse?"
Again he was grabbed from behind, this time letting out a mighty cry of fear and despair. No, Ori cried, no no no! Even as he was pulled back into the depths of the room his fingers strained and reached for the opened door. Dori, Nori, please!
Enough. Ori twisted, he fought, he was a dwarf! Granted it was nothing more then scratches and biting, but it was enough. The man cursed, dropping the dwarf and grabbing his now bleeding arm, his companions waking as one large booted foot swung out the strike Ori in the chest, the force sending him across the floor where he lay, gasping and shaking.
"So the little rodent has teeth, yeah? But not for long. When I'm finished little mouse won't even be able to squeak."
"Oh you think so, do you?"
The door flew open wide and there stood a tall figure, taller then the men and full of light. Ori relaxed, fear fleeing at the sight, and his vision dimmed and so missed what happened next. But that was all right, he was safe.
He was found.
REPOST: usually I don't do this but my first reviewer made me rethink not giving a warning. THIS IS NOT A RAPE STORY. Look at the rating. And I honestly don't feel comfy going so far. YES, there are allusions to abuse, but it does not go as far as rape. The men don't get that far, though they do strip him and hold him down. As Ori is so innocent, and used to Dwarf communities or being in his brother's protection, this event terrifies him and this chapter is written from his point of view.
I apologize to anyone I may have shocked, next time I will give proper warnings.
